Hello Goodbye
by Jeffrey Patrick and Jeanny
Summary: Takes place after “The Gift.” Buffy's friends must discover their gifts in order to bring her back. **COMPLETE**
1. Part One

Title: Hello Goodbye -Part one

Author: Jeffrey Patrick

Description: Takes place after "The Gift." The Scoobies deal with their grief, but find that there may be a way to bring the Slayer back. 

Disclaimer: I own nothing but some Quickdraw McGraw underoos, and penchant for dragging friends into my tangled web of fiction. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all things Buffy related.

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"Ow! Bloody hell!" Spike screamed, holding his head in pain. He had punched Xander, forgetting the pain. He opened his eyes just in time to see Xander's fist connected with his nose. He stepped back to avoid the next punch, but Xander kept swinging. The next blow caught his chin, knocking him into Tara. She gave Willow a worried look and stepped out of their way.

"Xander, stop," Anya pleaded. She turned to Willow. "Make them stop."

"No thanks," Willow said. "Spike has it coming."

"B-but he can't really fight back," Tara noted. "He can't defend himself."

"Then he gets dusted," Willow said coldly. "I see no wrong there." She turned back to the ancient text that she was studying.

"Giles?" Anya asked, hoping the Watcher would stop the brawl.

Giles shook his head and stepped between Spike and Xander.

"Move, Giles!" Xander demanded. "You heard what he said."

"Yes, I did. But I'm not letting you take your frustration out on him in my shop." Rupert Giles removed his glasses, and put a hand on Xander's shoulder. "Go to the back and cool down. Spike will be gone when you return."

"Why should I go?" Spike protested. "I was just calling it like I saw it."

Giles grabbed the vampire by his collar and began moving him toward the door. "Buffy's sacrifice was heroic and noble. How dare you say it was the easy way out?"

"The girl was at the end of her rope, Rupes. She was ready to cash in long before we got to that construction sight."

Giles glared it him so intensely that Spike voluntarily stepped outside.

"If you ever say anything remotely similar to that in my presence," Giles said, "I'll stake you myself. Do you understand this?"

Spike looked at him for a moment before turning away. "Fine. Live in denial."

Giles slammed the door and turned to see Dawn heading for the training room. "Dawn, I'm not sure Xander is up for company just now."

"He'll be okay," Dawn said. "I just need to talk to him."

She stepped into the back and found Xander sitting on a stool in the center of the room. He was staring at a big, puffy suit. There were tears rolling down his cheeks. Dawn approached him from behind and wrapped her arms around his neck. He looked back at her and smiled.

"How's my Dawny?"

She released her embrace so he could wipe his tears on the back of his sleeve. "About as good as you are."

He sniffed and tried to regain his composure. "That good, huh?"

She grabbed a stool and sat facing him. "You shouldn't let Spike get to you like that. He just… He doesn't know how to deal… with everything."

"He can join the club."

"Yeah. But… we all deal… in our own way. His is just… more…"

"Wrong."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" Xander leaned forward. "There is no maybe, Dawn. Buffy did what she did to save us… and the world."

Dawn looked away. "But she was also… tired… of the constant fight. She had lost so much."

Xander took her hand and gave her his patented smile. "But she was determined not to lose you. It was Buffy's decision. She died a hero."

Dawn nodded weakly. "I know she did."

"You given much thought to what I asked you earlier?" Xander asked.

"About staying with you and Anya?"

"Yeah."

She smiled. "I think I would like that. At least, until we hear from Dad. Giles offered to stay at the house with me, but…"

"It's hard to be there," Xander finished. "I can imagine."

Dawn looked at the padded suit. "What's up with that? I saw you staring at it when I came in."

Xander smiled. "I was just… Well, I had that on… the last time I really… told her how great she was. Damn. I hate the word 'was.' It just seems so…"

"Yeah," she nodded. She looked up at him. "She loved you. All of you. Even Anya."

He smiled at that. "I know." 

Dawn stood and pulled him up by the hand she was holding. "Come on. Let's check on the others."

"Hey, Dawn…"

"Yeah?"

Xander smiled at her warmly. "You know that Buffy isn't the only one that's proud of you, right? We all are. We all love you so much."

She grinned. "I know, silly. Come on. I think we should talk to Willow."

Dawn and Xander made their way back into the shop. Willow was flipping through a spell book. Tara looked on. She was obviously worried. Anya stood behind the register, and was the first to notice Xander and Dawn re-entering the room.

"Is it better now?" Anya asked. "The pain? Because you haven't been yourself Xander, and…"

Xander stepped behind the counter and hugged her tightly. "You're hurting too. I know."

Dawn sat down next to Willow and rested her head on the young witch's shoulder. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Nothing," Willow lied. "Just trying to keep occupied."

"You seem… far away." Dawn glanced over at Tara.

"She's looking for a spell," Tara offered. "Something to…"

"That's enough, Tara," Willow said coldly.

"Is it?" Tara asked flatly. She took another step closer. "Your secret could get you in a lot of trouble."

That statement caught Xander and Anya's attention. Giles caught it as well, but was too busy with a customer to stop and question it.

"What secret?" Xander asked. "If there's a secret, I should know it. I'm a great secret keeper. Unless… you know… they're private secrets of a naughty nature…"

"She's looking for a resurrections spell," Tara said softly. 

Dawn got a horrified look on her face. "B-but… those are dangerous. You said so yourself. And when I tried the one for Mom…"

"You tried one for your mom?" Anya asked.

"Spike helped her," Xander said, recalling his trip with Spike to Doc's. "Will, Buffy wouldn't want this. Not if it could go wrong."

"So what SHOULD I do, Xander?" Willow stood up and got in his face. "Nothing? You do enough of that for all of us!"

"Hey!" Anya said.

"Will," Tara started.

"No," Xander said. "Let her finish. I'm not magic guy, right? I don't have the vampire strength to save the day. I'm not the Watcher with all the knowledge. So somehow… this must be MY fault. Right?"

"Xander, stop," Dawn pleaded. "This isn't helping."

"That's not what I'm saying!" Willow shouted at him.

"I know that!" He yelled back. "You don't know what you're saying! You're hurting, Will! Just like all of us! But instead of talking about it, we're all fighting and yelling and doing crazy spells!"

Willow stared at him for a minute.

"I love you, Will," Xander said. "And I don't wanna lose you too… even if it means I'll never see Buffy again."

A single tear ran down Willow's left cheek.

"I know you miss her. I know you'd do anything to have her back. We all would. But we can't. It's just not right. Dark magic is… dark… and Buffy wouldn't want that for you." 

"He's right, you know," Giles said, having passed his now frightened customer off to Anya, who had already hung the "closed" sign in the window. "Buffy would never want you risking your life… or in this case, your very soul… to undo a sacrifice she made willingly."

"We may hate the result," Xander said. "but we know that there was no other way."

Willow turned to Dawn. "I just… I miss her so…"

Dawn hugged her tightly. "I know."

"We all know, baby," Tara said, leaning over Dawn's shoulder and kissing Willow's forehead. "But dark magic is not the answer."

"She's right," said a familiar voice. The Scoobies turned around to see Cordelia Chase standing in the doorway of the magic shop. Behind her, Angel stood, draped in the light of the moon. "Dark magic is not the way." She smiled at them. "But there IS a way."

Several hours later -

"Maybe I'm just slow, but did anyone else understand any of that?" Xander asked.

Anya shook her head, as did Tara. Giles stood up and poured another cup of tea. "I believe I did," the Watcher said. "May I?" he asked Cordelia.

"Yeah, break it down for us simpletons," Xander said. Willow shot him a scowl. "And Willow."

"I understood it," Dawn mumbled. Xander winked at her.

"If I understood Cordelia and Angel, the Powers That Be have given Buffy the opportunity to have another shot at life. The how of this process is apparently not for us to know." Giles sat back down at the table. "I'm assuming I have at least that much correct."

"Yes," Angel said. "My question is 'why?' They've never done this sort of thing for another Slayer, and it seems like the Powers always give you only the information they want you to have."

"That's true enough about my visions," Cordy said. "But Buffy was… well… Buffy. The usual rules just never really apply to her."

Giles smiles at that. "That is most certainly true. Still, Angel brings up an interesting point."

"No, he doesn't," Xander argued. "Look, this may be a real shot…"

"If there's a chance," Dawn said softly, "we have to take it."

"It could be a trick," Anya said. "With the Powers it can be hard to tell."

"Xander and Dawny are right, though," Willow said. "If she has a shot at being rewarded, then we should be all for this. Buffy died to save us all. If anybody deserves a second chance, it's Buffy."

"No one here denies that," Angel said. "Least of all me. I just… We need to be careful."

"You be careful," Xander said with determination. "I'm gonna get Buffy back."

"Slow down there, kemosabe," Cordelia said. "If what I saw was right, each of us will have to be a part of this if it's going to work."

"You made it sound like each of us would have a task to complete… or a sacrifice to make," Willow said. "What kind of tasks are likely to be asked of us?"

"We don't know," Angel said, "which is why we act with caution."

"While I understand your concern," Giles said, "I stand with Xander and Willow in this. If there is a chance… even the smallest chance… that Buffy could be returned to us, I'd face the devil, himself, to see it happen."

"As would I," Angel said. "I just don't want anyone going into this expecting a cake walk. We won't be facing challenges as a group, but as individuals. Before you agree, you need to know the score."

"No offense, Angel," Cordy said matter-of-factly, "but the PTB never said we HAVE a choice. We're gonna be tested. We either pass the test, and Buffy comes back…"

"Or we fail," Giles finished.

"And she'll never come back," Xander said. He glanced at Willow and she nodded. "What do we need to know to pass these things?"

"It's impossible to know," Cordelia explained. "Each test will be different. Whatever you seek to gain for Buffy, you risk losing in return."

"Let's do it," Dawn said. "We owe her the attempt, at the very least." The gang all nodded solemnly.

"When will the tests begin?" Giles asked.

"Tonight at midnight," Cordy answered.

"The witching hour," Tara added.

"Good," Xander said. "We don't have to wait long. Do we… need anything?"

"Not everyone is here," Angel said. "Cordelia saw Spike in her vision. I'll go find him and bring him back here."

"What do we need Spike for?" Anya asked. "He's not really one of us."

"Neither is Faith," Cordelia pointed out, "but she was in my vision too. Angel called her and let her know what was going down."

"Great," Xander said sarcastically. "Let's add a few nut jobs to the mix."

"I don't like it any better than you do," Angel said. "But you said it yourself… whatever it takes."

"I knew that'd come back to haunt me," Xander said. "What time is it now?"

"11:13pm," Giles said softly. "We have 47 minutes."

"That's… soon," Dawn said, looking slightly uneasy.

"Then I'll find Spike in a hurry," Angel said, heading for the front door.

"What do WE do?" Willow asked. "In the meantime, I mean?"

"The only thing we can do, I'm afraid." The Watcher sat at the end of the table, removed his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes. "We wait."


	2. Part Two

Title: Hello Goodbye Part 2 of 12

Author: Jeanny

Summary: The PTB are sending the Scoobies on mysterious and dangerous quests; Buffy's future hangs in the balance.

Disclaimer: Joss, Fox, and Mutant Enemy rule the world - or at least these characters. I'm just doing my part in the universal Dance of Joy surrounding them.

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A few minutes went by in complete silence, everyone lost in his or her own thoughts. Probably thinking about Buffy and what she meant to them, and what they might be able to do tonight, Willow thought. She was thinking about that too, but she was also having a silent freak-out. She felt Tara's hand on her shoulder and knew her girlfriend had figured her out, not that she was known for her poker face.

"Willow, are you okay?" she asked softly. Willow nodded with fake enthusiasm.

"I'm good. I'm great. We're gonna help Buffy, so, yay, it's just that...I wish we knew what kind of test it's gonna be. Cause, you know, I do pretty good on tests, but that's when I study, and I feel like I should be studying or something, only I can't because I don't know what I'm supposed to know, you know, for the test that I'd be studying for." Giles smiled at her indulgently.

"I don't expect we're facing that manner of test, Willow. Although the entire matter is distinct from any situation documented by the Watchers' Council to my knowledge, it appears somewhat closely related to some rite of passage rituals I've read about from a few Native American tribal cultures. Warriors are sent to prove their worthiness by retrieving some object of ritual value and along the way attain visions from the gods."

"I seek the Grail," Xander threw in, and Willow heard Dawn giggle, but she was still scared beyond the capacity for humor. She looked at Dawn and saw that she was a bundle of nerves as well and tried to give the girl a reassuring smile. She was pretty sure it hadn't come off very well.

"The interesting and alarming part," Giles continued, ignoring the interruption, "is what Cordelia said about the risk. We risk losing what we seek to gain."

"To gain for Buffy," Dawn corrected quietly.

"Where is Angel?" Cordy muttered to no one in particular. Willow looked at her watch, saw that it was almost midnight and felt Tara's grip on her shoulder tighten. She gave her a quick smile and struggled to listen as Giles continued his summation. She was hoping against hope that there would be some knowledge in there, some tidbit that she could use. She had to pass the test, she had to. Deep in her heart, she was already afraid that her recent delving into dark magick would be used against her, that she would be found unworthy.

"Yes, of course," Giles replied to Dawn, then continued to the room at large. "No matter what is going to happen, we really must be on our guard at all times. I believe that the mystic forces we are dealing with may be forces of good, but they can still be quite dangerous. It is also unclear if the failure of one of us will affect the group as a whole. There could be dire consequences, perhaps for all of us." Dire consequences. Willow felt like she was going to hyperventilate. She wished that the ground would swallow her then and there, until she realized in a moment of panicked clarity that it just might happen. She had no way of knowing what she was about to face, but she was terrified. What if she failed Buffy? What if she failed everyone? She saw Anya move in closer to try to take Xander's hand, her face every bit as afraid as Willow's. For some strange reason she found that comforting. Xander didn't seem to notice her movement. He was too busy berating Giles.

"That's it, Giles, from now on you don't get to make the big pre-battle speech, because you're"

Willow blinked. She had been sitting at the table, now she was standing in a familiar yet shocking corridor. Sunnydale High, not the exploded shell she remembered, but just as she'd known it in high school. Moonlight shining through the windows and emergency lighting was the only illumination. There was enough light for her to tell she was alone. She could still feel the warmth on her shoulder from where Tara's hand had been moments before. Willow shivered.

"Oh. Kay," she said. "Of course, this is the test, and I'm back in high school, land of many tests taken...although I am in college now, I take tests there, too, but I'm not complaining, I can do the test here."

"Willow," a warm voice interrupted, and Willow jumped. She whirled around and gasped in astonishment.

"Miss Calendar? Is it you?" The petite dark haired woman smiled at her, and Willow grinned. She ran to give her a hug, stopping only at the last possible moment. "Oh, am I allowed? To hug you?"

"I'd be pretty upset if you didn't," Jenny smirked. "And Willow, you're not a teenager and I'm not your teacher anymore, please call me Jenny, okay?" Willow put her arms around her teacher and mentor carefully, as if she might break or disappear, and was relieved to feel her solid warmth. She was real, and she was...

"Alive. You're alive!" Willow whispered, almost reverently. Tears were shimmering in her eyes as she pulled away, and Jenny shook her head sadly.

"No, Willow. I'm simply here by the will of the Powers. I'll have a role in the trial that's coming."

"T-trial? Miss Ca--Jenny, I d-don't understand about the trial," Willow stammered. Just being in the presence of her teacher again made her feel indescribably young. "I need to pass some kind of test or we can't get Buffy back, right?"

"I'm afraid that the stakes are a bit higher than that, Willow. First of all, the task that you'll be asked to do is not without danger to you. If you fail to succeed...well, it could be bad. But more importantly, you need to understand that the Powers see something of the Slayer in you, in all of those chosen, and they want you to offer it to Buffy to bring her back. The test is more than just the challenge before you, it's about figuring out what you have to give. If you don't figure it out by the end, it will be lost to you, and Buffy will be unable to return."

"So if I give it, I can keep it, but if I don't give it, I lose it?" Jenny's nod and wide smile made Willow sigh. "I've been on the Hellmouth too long, because that actually made sense in a terribly cryptic and nonsensical way. So, there's a mission, big hairy danger, and you're here...why are you, Jenny? Not that I'm not really happy to see you!" Willow added hastily.

"Think of me as a guide, a kind of link to the Powers. But I'm not going to be much help to you, I'm afraid. They've made it quite clear that there isn't much I can do." Jenny seemed annoyed at that, and Willow had to smile at her. "You and I were close, closer than most teachers and students. I think, and please correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm at least part of the reason you've gotten so heavily involved in magick."

"Well, yes, I mean...m-magick? The trial is about the magick I've been doing? I mean, I know some of that stuff is kind of dark and out of boundsy, but I did it to try to stop Glory and to help save the world, I mean, they do understand that, right? I was trying to help!"

"Calm down, Willow. That has nothing to do with what this is about, although I don't think you're really being honest with yourself there, and that's not good. You need to be clear in your own mind about who you are in order to find your gift." Willow frowned, but before she could protest, Jenny began walking down the corridor. Willow had to walk briskly to keep up as the gypsy continued. "I'm curious, what do you think makes magick possible? Where does it come from?" Willow smiled, she knew the answer to this one.

"There're magickal energies all around us. If you know how, you can tap into them and use them, and that's how the magick works. The spells that you use, those are like the ways you manipulate them. Really, it's just like chemistry with different components." Willow had caught up enough to see that Jenny was frowning, and she faltered a bit. "I mean, that's the way I've always...but maybe I'm missing something. You invoke the goddess, so the Powers have a hand in it too. I just messed up, didn't I?" Jenny put her hand on her arm to halt her progress and stop her panicked babbling.

"No, you didn't mess up. But you need to know that those energies you spoke of don't exist here, and you will not be able to invoke the Powers while you're here. Do you understand me?" Jenny looked deep into Willow's eyes, and the young Wiccan could tell there was something she wasn't saying, something important. But she had no idea what, so she simply nodded.

"You mean I can't do spells here; they won't work." Willow suddenly looked around and grinned in delight. "Hey, this is your classroom! Oh, is it a computer test? I could...no of course it's not a computer test, because that would be stupid, and Buffy doesn't really have any computer skills, I mean she can use a computer, and she has...I mean she had..." Jenny mercifully cut off this latest bout of babble.

"This is where the trial will begin. It's a very simple task actually. Well, simple to explain, at least." Willow looked at her apprehensively.

"Okay, simple is good. What is it?"

"You have to save me. Actually, you have to save both of us." Willow's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Save you from what?" A soundless shadow passed in front of them, and Willow choked back a scream as she looked up into the mocking smile she still occasionally saw in her nightmares.

"Hello, girls," Angelus purred. "Miss me?" Before Willow could react he had grabbed Jenny by the hair and thrown her against the wall, her head making a sickening thudding sound as it connected. She slumped against the wall, struggling to keep her feet and consciousness. Angelus backed Willow up against the desk. Willow's hands flailed, feeling the surface of the desk frantically for something wooden, a pencil, ruler, anything. There was nothing. Angelus' hands caressed her arms almost gently as he moved his head in to her neck and sniffed. "Will, you smell so good. I'd forgotten. Not so innocent anymore, but that fear..." He pulled back slightly, and she watched him morph into his vampire features. Desperately she brought up a knee and hit him in the groin as hard as she could. He cursed and released her, falling, and she ran at top speed towards the exit, pausing only to grab Jenny's hand and drag her out with her. The two went hurtling down the corridor, feet fueled by adrenaline.

"You wound me, Willow! Oh well, you know how I love to play with my food..." Angelus bellowed, his voice echoing eerily through the hall.

"How...long...?" Willow panted as they headed towards the stairs. She had suddenly noticed that this Sunnydale High didn't seem to have any emergency exits. She turned and headed back towards where the library should have been, it was at least familiar ground. And with any luck, there would be weapons.

"How...long...what?" Jenny answered wheezily, blood from a cut over her eye streaming down her face. She was shakily managing to keep up with Willow's pace.

"Do...I...have...to...keep...us alive?"

"Until...he's...dead...and...the others...too," Jenny responded. Willow tripped over her own feet and almost took them both sprawling.

"What...others?" she asked, already fearing she knew the answer. A lithe dark-haired figure appeared at the end of the corridor, swaying slightly.

"Look, Spikey, there are mice in the house...they're going to have their tails cut off by Daddy's kitchen knife, no cheese for them..." Drusilla called out in a singsong voice.

"I see them, Dru. Yes, luv, they do look trapped now, don't they..." Spike's familiar voice reverberated, and Willow whipped her head around. She couldn't see him, he was hidden in the shadows, but she could see the burning end of his cigarette. She knew that this Spike was unchipped and not of the good, and she stared at Jenny in disbelief.

"I'm supposed to take on three Master vampires and win? Without magick? Umm, hate to bring this up, but NOT a Slayer!" Knowing they couldn't stay where they were, Willow continued moving them towards the library, even though their progress was taking them into Drusilla's vicinity. She had the nasty suspicion that they were being herded there anyway. She could now hear Angelus laughing somewhere behind them.

"Oh, Willow, you are so right. I have to wonder why Buffy had so much faith in you; after all, you did let her down in the end. Couldn't stop the ritual from starting, so little sis' blood started a flowing. That never should have happened." Angelus taunted her. He had caught up with Spike, and the two of them were slowly making their way towards the two women. Not knowing what else to do, Willow ran past a humming Drusilla and into the library...where she was relieved to see the weapons cabinet fully stocked with the usual items. She grabbed a cross and threw it to Jenny, who caught it and held it at the ready, then she grabbed the crossbow. She'd seen Buffy work the crossbow plenty of times, and she'd done target shooting with it. She was sure she could manage it. If she got in close to them, she knew she would die, so distance weapons were their only hope. If only she could use her magick. She could teleport three stakes and kill them all easily, but Jenny had told her that magick wouldn't work. 

Willow shakily loaded the crossbow and aimed it at the doors as they flung open and the three vampires sauntered in. All three of them actually laughed at her tough girl stance, and Willow knew they were right. Even if she got a shot off and her aim was true, the other two would be able to move in on them. Willow stole a sideways glance at Jenny. She was holding the cross down at her side, her eyes pleading for Willow to do...to do what? Willow again was struck by the idea that she had missed some vitally important clue. She racked her brains, running it back over everything that Giles had said, everything that Jenny had told her.

"Little mouse is trapped. Little mouse is blind," Drusilla sang, spinning around. Spike and Angelus both grinned at each other.

"Don't come any closer," Willow warned, wishing her voice sounded stronger.

"Well, pet, that's right terrifying. I am impressed, aren't you impressed, Peaches?" Spike said, mock serious. Angelus nodded, but his eyes were amused.

"Terrified. I'm going to love killing you again, Jenny. And Will, I think I'm going to take my time with you. Might even turn you."

"I said stop!" Willow said more fiercely, and to her surprise all three vampires actually froze. She aimed the crossbow at Dru's heart. "If you come any closer, she's the one that will die, Spike." Spike actually looked alarmed, and Dru started to whimper. Angelus just laughed.

"Will, that might work for the lovesick pup, but you know it won't stop me. Get ready for me, Jenny. The game's over again," Willow fired the crossbow, and the arrow hit Dru in the shoulder. She screamed as Spike ran to her side. Willow mentally cursed herself. They were done for now.

"Willow!" Jenny screamed, and Willow saw that Angelus now had her in his arms. He grabbed her head, looking at Willow the entire time. She knew what he was going to do. She knew she couldn't let it happen. Determination filled her, and the entire room suddenly began to tremble. Three stakes rose from behind the main counter and flew through the air like heat seeking missiles. Two found Dru and Spike, and they exploded to dust before they had a chance to make a sound. The one that found Angelus was a half-second later, and Willow had a moment to relish his shocked expression. He managed to make an enraged cry, and the sound of it lingered as Jenny was showered in his dust. The three stakes hung in the air for a moment longer, then dropped. Willow ran to her friend and hugged her.

"You did it, I knew you could do it," Jenny murmured. Willow released her and smiled broadly.

"I figured it out, what you tried to get me to see. I had forgotten; it's the belief in magick that's the most important part. I couldn't let them kill you. I knew I had to do something, and I just believed that I could."

"Your gift, Willow. You know what it is." It wasn't a question, but Willow nodded.

"My gift is hope. My gift is belief." 

"Yes."

"My gift is spirit."

"The reason that she's here," Jenny added softly, smiling proudly.

Willow knew it was time to say goodbye. She had so many things she wanted to say, but she vanished before she could.


	3. Part Three

Title: Hello Goodbye (Part 3 of 12)

Author: Jeffrey Patrick

Description: The gang must discover their gifts in order to bring back the dead Slayer.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a pickled herring, and a bug zapper. Joss Whedon and the fab folks at Mutant Enemy own Buffy and all related characters. It's their sandbox. I just bring the matchbox cars.

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Cordelia Chase looked at Xander Harris and smiled. It had been a long while since she had seen him. He seemed… different somehow. Older. More confident. Xander smiled back. They were okay. She knew it. He knew it. All the awkwardness that might normally exist between ex-lovers was gone. They were friends, though neither would admit it. It was much easier for them to insult one another. It was the way their relationship had always worked.

Next, Cordelia glanced at Willow. She looked more tired and thin than Cordy recalled. Willow didn't notice that Cordelia was looking her way, but Tara did. She smiled weakly at Cordelia before turning back to listen to Giles. Cordelia did the same, and found that the Watcher was telling them all to pay attention to whatever surroundings they find themselves in during the coming trials. As usual, Cordelia thought he was being overly dramatic. Apparently, Xander agreed.

"That's it, Giles," he quipped, "From now on you don't get to make the big pre-battle speech, because you're…"

It was the sudden silence that snapped Cordelia out of her daze. She suddenly found herself alone, in surroundings she hadn't seen in months. It was Angel's old office. Wolfram and Hart had destroyed it, yet there she was, sitting at her old desk. As familiar as it was, however, she was still shaken to see the man who suddenly appeared before her.

"Doyle?"

The young man smiled at her, speechless for a moment. "Hello, Cordelia. You look ravishing as usual."

"But how… I mean you're… how can…?" Jumping to her feet, Cordelia threw her arms around him, before planting a passionate kiss on his lips. She then stepped back and slapped him… hard.

"Ow! Whatcha do that for?"

"Which one?"

"Well, the slap obviously. I KNOW why you kissed me."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "I kissed you to give back the visions, feeb!"

"Right," he said sarcastically. 

"Hey, you kissed me to give them to me."

"You think that's why I kissed you?" Doyle looked offended. "Do you think I knew that was gonna happen?"

"Yes."

He smiled. "Well, I can't say that you're wrong there, but what choice did I have? Angel had to have a link to the powers."

"Leave it to you to be the missing link," Cordy said with a smirk.

"You know," Doyle said, shuffling his feet, "you haven't even asked what I'm doin' here."

"It's the big trial thing," Cordy said flatly. "So give me the scoop."

Doyle looked at her as though he were obviously impressed. "Wow! You HAVE changed."

"Well, having visions of horrible evil flashing through your brain can do that to a person."

"I'm sorry, princess. I know it's no picnic."

She smiled at him. "It's okay."

They stood there a moment, neither knowing what to say. Cordelia finally gathered the nerve to break the silence. "We miss you."

Doyle smiled at her. "You and Angel, you mean?"

"Well," she said, looking away, "I can't speak for Angel."

His smile widened.

"I miss you," she admitted. "It's… not the same… without you."

"Imagine how I feel," Doyle said. "I have to spend the afterlife without you around to keep me on my toes."

She smiled at him. Then her expression turned serious. "What do I have to do? What's my test?"

"Right down to business, eh?" Doyle shook his head. "Not the fun loving Cordelia that I remember, are you?"

"Things change. People change. Besides, I don't even know if you're really Doyle. You could just be some… phantom… that the Powers dreamed up to test me."

He smiled his most charming smile. "And how could I test you?"

She looked away. "I don't know. I'm not plan gal."

"You're a lot more than you realize," he said softly. He placed his fingers beneath her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. "I really am Doyle. You knew that when you kissed me."

She nodded.

"Good. Now what's this test you're talking about?"

She looked at him, obviously puzzled. "You aren't here to test me?"

"Slow down," he said, leading her to sit down across from him. "Tell me what's happening on the other side."

"It's Buffy…"

"Yeah. I heard she bit the big one while she was fighting Glorificus. And let me say, I think the Powers were slightly miffed that the Slayer couldn't cut it against Glory. She was hardly the worst thing out there in the dark."

"Back up there, Flash." Cordelia leaned in closer. "Two things. One… If you aren't here for the test, why are you here? Two… Buffy gave her life to save the world for the umpteenth time and the Powers are disappointed? Well, you can tell them that they can just kiss my…"

"As… I was saying," Doyle interrupted, "I don't know jack about a test, love. As for Buffy, I'm just saying that the Powers thought she'd last a bit longer."

"I didn't," Cordy said as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"I was… I knew that as a Slayer… her days were numbered. She was going to keep fighting the good fight. She'd go down swinging and take us with her."

Doyle suddenly understood. He took her hand. "That's why you really left Sunnydale? To escape the Hellmouth?"

"No. I knew that all things that go bump in the night are bumping places other than Sunnydale too. I left Sunnydale… to get away from her. Because the longer I was around her…"

"The more you risked yourself willingly," Doyle said. "You were beginning to understand her. You were changing."

"Yeah. What a coward, huh? I got the hell out of Dodge so I wouldn't go down fighting."

He kissed her hand. "But you couldn't escape the truth. You ran away from Sunnydale and smack into your destiny."

"My destiny as a screw-up, you mean? I haven't exactly established a line of credit with the Powers."

"Are you kidding? Don't you think the Powers know that you and the others kept up the fight when Angel was all obsessed with Darla? They do, Cordy! They know you're worthy of the gift that I gave you. They know that you're responsible enough to do the right thing with it." 

"But they're disappointed with Buffy? That makes no sense. What are you hiding, Doyle? You always work WITH the Powers. What's the test?"

"What? Hiding? I- I don't know what you mean."

"Don't give me that," she said, leaning closer to him, and pointing a finger in his face. "You're wearing your lie face. You may be charming, but you're a really bad liar, Doyle. What's really going on here?"

"Not a thing, love. I swear."

"Well, stop swearing, Doyle. I KNOW you're lying. You have to tell me the real story. You OWE me that. At LEAST that, come to think of it."

Doyle looked away for as moment. Cordelia leaned back. She knew that we wanted to tell her the truth. He was likely ordered by the Powers not to give her too much information. She was counting on Doyle's natural inclination to break the rules. When he finally looked back at her, she knew he had caved. She had always had a way with Doyle. Apparently, even death had not robbed them of it.

"The thing is, Cordelia… You're here to make a decision. One that should have been a little more clear cut."

"A decision about Buffy?"

"Right. Initially, they were gonna make you choose between your destiny and the Slayer. But then you chose your visions over that strapping chap in Pylea. You coulda stayed there and been the queen. Instead, you chose responsibility. So the Powers decided to… up the stakes. They said I shouldn't tell you that they changed plans, but…"

"Up the stakes?" she repeated. "That doesn't sound good."

"Tell me about it. The Powers are quite fond of irony it seems. Not to mention that sacrifice seems to be a runnin' theme."

"What are you saying?"

"They determined your test should be a simple choice. You can choose to bring Buffy back."

"Or?"

"Or… you can… bring back… someone else."

Cordelia searched his eyes. She knew what he was saying, but she needed to hear it. "Like… you?"

Doyle looked away. "Cordelia, I think it's obvious what you should do. I wasn't even gonna tell you that you HAD a choice. The world needs the Slayer."

"But I need…"

He looked back up at her. She turned away.

"I need to think about this."

"There's nothing to think about, Cordelia. They only did this…"

"To make it as hard as possible? What are they testing, Doyle? My ability to be frustrated and confused?"

"As for what you're supposed to learn," Doyle admitted, "I haven't a clue. But, Buffy can actually make something of her life, Cordelia. I didn't do much with mine when I had the chance."

"That's not true. You died to save a lot of lives."

"Demon lives, if you recall. Didn't win me high marks with the Powers. They were counting on me to look after you and Angel."

"All the more reason for me to think about this."

"But Cordelia…"

"Doyle, shut up. You said it's my decision. Just… stay quiet and let me think."

She sat there for what seemed like an eternity. She remained silent with her eyes closed. At times, Doyle wondered if she had fallen asleep. Then she began to weep. He wanted to hold her… comfort her, but he knew it wouldn't help. Besides, he didn't want to sway her decision in any way. Instead, he kicked back in the chair he occupied. He closed his eyes and started to drift to sleep. 

Cordelia Chase stood up and paced the floor. Doyle had drifted off.

"Typical," she thought. A smile crawled across her face. "Why did it have to be him?"

Suddenly, a vision came. Her knees went week. If she hadn't managed to grab her old desk, she would have fallen to the floor. The images flashed by quickly, but each one seemed to last an eternity. She was there in each of them living out the moments.

She saw Buffy back among friends, ignoring Cordelia's part in the process as usual.

She saw Buffy and the Scoobies fighting some big bad on the stern of a huge ship. There were tentacles everywhere.

She saw Buffy and Willow crying over Xander's grave.

She saw Angel hearing the news of Buffy's engagement and taking the news badly.

She saw their agency go under while Angel was unable to move on.

She saw Buffy dying later in life at the hands of a familiar vamp. 

The visions stopped and she stood to her feet. She knew it wasn't over, so she leaned against the desk and waited for the next vision. "I know it's coming," she said. "Let's get this over with."

The visions hit her again.

She saw the look on Angel's face when she walked through the door with Doyle.

She saw Wesley and Gunn making the effort to find a place for him in the agency's new location.

She saw herself standing beneath the mistletoe on a warm L.A. Christmas Eve, kissing Doyle gently before it turned into something much… more.

She saw Doyle having a vision, and leading the gang to stop Xander from going after a L'ycinth demon on his own.

She saw Angel fulfilling his destiny and becoming human.

Hours passed as she contemplated all she had seen. When she finally stood up and walked toward Doyle's sleeping form, she had her answer.

"Doyle?"

He knew as soon as he opened his eyes. "Yeah?"

"You know that… I really care about you, right?"

"Gosh," he said with a smile. "You're not gonna propose are you, love? I'm not really the type to settle down. Plus, being dead and all… Well, it's not real conducive to a stable relationship."

"You know, don't you?"

He grinned and looked away. "Well… I trusted you to do the right thing. We both know this is right."

"I need you to understand why it has to be this way."

He smiled and touched her cheek. "You don't owe me any explanations."

"But I want to explain." She turned and began pacing. "What you said earlier about me running away from Sunnydale and right into my destiny… You were right. But one of the only reasons I finally accepted my place in this constant battle is that I learned from Buffy and Angel… and you… that if you know the truth, you have a responsibility to act on it. You both sacrificed yourselves to save us. You both gave up everything that you cared about. You were both loved."

She turned to face him. "Before I met Buffy, I was completely self-absorbed. I treated people like dirt. I hate to admit it, but she was the catalyst of change in my life. She was an example, that unknowingly… I've struggled to live up to every day since I got these crazy visions."

"Even before that," Doyle pointed out.

"Maybe so. One thing that I learned from her is that the easy thing is seldom the right thing. I never felt close to Buffy. We were never friends… not like maybe we should've been… not like you and I were."

"But?"

She smiled at him. He knew her better than she cared to admit. "She taught me that sometimes you have to go with your gut. I can't tell you how many times I listened to her and Giles come up with some insane plan that I thought would probably get us all killed. Of course, I would say that, but they would go right ahead with the plan."

"And everything would turn out okay."

"Every time," she admitted. "We didn't always get the ending we wanted, but she followed her gut instinct, and we came out on top. Taking the hard road always turned out to be the wiser plan." She reached up and touched his face. Doyle closed his eyes and treasured her touch. "I can't ignore my gut," she said. "I want you back, Doyle. There hasn't been a day that's gone by since you died when I haven't questioned what could have been."

He smiled at her, hoping to ease her burden. He knew there was nothing he could say, so he kissed her forehead. She sighed.

"I want you back, but… I know… somehow… that it wouldn't be right. My heart says that Buffy's already had a second chance at life, and it should be your turn now. But my gut… says that she's going to be needed. If I don't bring her back… the world could pay for my selfishness. I have to sacrifice. I have to be responsible. I have to be… what Buffy has always been. I'm so sorry. I can think of a million reasons to bring you back instead. I can only think of one reason to bring Buffy back."

"And what's that?"

"It's right. Somehow, in the midst of all this craziness, I know that it's right. I can't ignore it."

"Well, don't be sorry," he said softly. "This is the way it should be. Each of you has a gift to give her. Yours is the same gift she gave to you… responsibility in the face of overwhelming sacrifice."

"What do I need to do?"

"It's already done," he said. "You'll be leaving soon."

A tear ran down her cheek. "I don't want to say goodbye to you again."

"Then don't," he said with a smile. "Whenever your day comes, I'll be waiting here."

She smiled. "No offense, but if that's the case, I hope I don't see you for a while."

"Me too." He kissed her lips tenderly. They both wept for a few moments, but soon they were laughing again. He reminded her of a silly story she had told him, and she laughed. He watched her in awe, trying to burn the image of her laughing into his memory. It would have to last him an eternity. Then, just as quickly as she had arrived, she was gone.


	4. Part Four

Title: Hello Goodbye Part 4 of 12

Author: Jeanny 

Summary: The PTB are sending the Scoobies on mysterious and dangerous quests; Buffy's future hangs in the balance.

Disclaimer: Joss, Fox, Mutant Enemy, rule the world - or at least these characters. I'm just doing my part in the universal Dance of Joy surrounding them.

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Dawn felt like she was no longer a person, but a spring coiled tightly. Any second now someone was going to touch her and she was going to spring up and hit the ceiling, and then she'd probably burst into all too human tears. Giles was talking about what was going to happen, but it was hard to concentrate on it. It was hard to listen at all. Xander tried to say something funny, but the glare he got from Anya was actually what Dawn found funny. She giggled, feeling oddly outside of herself. Willow looked at her and smiled but it looked strange on her face, like someone had cut a smile out of a magazine and pasted it over her mouth. The stress was getting to all of them.

"The interesting and alarming part is what Cordelia said about the risk. We risk losing what we seek to gain." Giles was frowning, puzzling over this riddle, when Dawn suddenly felt irrationally annoyed that he hadn't mentioned her sister in his explanation.

"To gain for Buffy." For some reason reminding Giles about why this was happening made her feel better about it, too. She felt much calmer when she thought about her sister. They might have her with them soon, and she would cling to that thought. *Whatever it takes, Buffy. I'll do anything, I don't care what I have to do. I will get you back. I know you'd do it for me. Anything. Anything.* She repeated that word to herself over and over like a mantra as Giles droned on, only looking up when Xander began to chastise the Watcher.

"That's it, Giles, from now on you don't get to make the big pre-battle speech, because you're"

Dawn was back home. She was lying on her stomach in her own bed, pen in hand posed over her diary. Her room looked different than it had that morning, but it was familiar. It appeared exactly the way it had looked a few months ago, before she knew she was the Key, and before...before... She dropped the pen and ran down the hall, skidding to a stop in front of her mother's room. The door was closed and she reached for the knob with a shaking hand.

"Hello, honey." The voice she now only heard in her dreams came from behind her, and she closed her eyes, tears sneaking past the lids and flooding her cheeks. She opened them as she turned, fearing that she would somehow disappear as swiftly as she had appeared. Her mother was standing there, her eyes shining. She was smiling and whole. Dawn flew into Joyce's arms, sobbing so hard she was unable to speak. Her mother stroked her hair and murmured soothingly, and they stayed there for some time. Finally Joyce reluctantly pulled away, brushing tears from her own eyes as well.

"Dawnie, I'm sorry, but we can't do this now. Remember why you're here."

"I'm supposed to be doing some kind of test. For Buffy. To help Buffy. But what am I doing here, Mom?" Joyce turned slightly away, suddenly unable to look her daughter in the eye. Dawn stiffened. She knew whatever was coming, she wasn't going to like it.

"The Powers sent me to explain the trial, Dawn. I don't know why they wanted it to take place here, except..." she trailed off, unwilling to continue that line of thought. Before Dawn could question her, she continued, forcing her voice to remain steady. "You're going to have to make a choice, and it isn't an easy one. Buffy sacrificed herself so that you could live, and the Powers want to know if you'd be willing to do the same." Dawn swallowed hard.

"The Powers...want me to die?" Joyce's eyes were brimming with tears.

"No, Dawn. The choice is not to die, the choice is to never have lived. All the false memories of you will be wiped away, and even the real ones from these past months. You'll still exist as The Key in its natural form. The human form, Dawn Summers, my baby...she will be gone. No one will remember you ever existed at all. Including me."

"B-but...I did exist, for a little while...how do I just stop being?" Dawn stared wide-eyed at her mother, trying to comprehend what this meant for her. "And if I'm just the Key, what am I then?" Joyce was so choked up she could barely speak.

"I don't know, Dawn. It's a horrible choice. I can't tell you what to do. I can only tell you that the decision you have to make is between your sister's life and your own." Dawn shook her head in denial.

"No one would remember? That can't be right. Someone would have to...Spike!" Dawn looked at her mother, desperate hope shining in her eyes. "Spike's a vampire. Xander said he was the only one who knew that Glory and Ben were the same person. Spike would remember me, wouldn't he?"

"I don't think so, honey." Joyce's fists clenched at her side. She was straining visibly against the impulse to take Dawn in her arms again. Dawn for her part looked simply lost.

"I don't think I can do it. I mean, I can die, I was willing to die that night. But Buffy took my place. Buffy wanted me to live, how do I just...not? How do I go back to being The Key, not knowing what I am?" Joyce shook her head in response. She didn't know. The Powers hadn't told her what the choice really meant, and being forced to lose one of her daughters was ripping her apart.

"I wish I knew what to say, honey. I'm your mother, I'm supposed to be able to help you."

"I don't even know what it's like, being the Key, I mean I don't remember..." Dawn never even had a chance to scream before the room vanished. She stared into a void that pulsed and hummed and was somehow colorless. She tried to cry out, but she no longer had a voice. A moment later she no longer remembered how to speak. The colorless void was abruptly filled with color. She could see into demon dimensions, hundreds of them at once. Bizarre shapes and sounds surrounded her, filled her. Worst of all, they passed through her. Demons used her to traverse the dimensions, passing through her body...except she no longer had a body. Through her soul, then. She could feel them, feel the evil within them, and she was powerless to keep them from touching her. She felt violated, and still more came, until she didn't think she could stand it anymore. She wanted her mother. She wanted Buffy. She wanted Willow and Xander and Spike. At this thought, she could all at once see into the earth dimension as she had all the demon dimensions before. She saw Willow and Xander laughing quietly with Buffy. Saw the three of them walk into the Summers house, and the sadness that flashed on Buffy's face as she entered.

"Are you okay, Buff?" Xander asked softly. Dawn felt vibrations rather than actually hearing his voice. It was a strange sensation. 

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just sometimes I guess I can't believe she's really gone. But I'm okay, I mean, I have to be. I know I'm not alone, I have you guys, and Giles. I don't know what I'd do without you." Willow gave Buffy a reassuring hug as Buffy sighed. "Still, in a sense I am all alone now. It's been me and Mom for so long now. Dad's out there somewhere, but it's obvious he doesn't really care anymore. I guess, sometimes I wish I hadn't been an only child, you know?" Dawn's heart would have sunken if she still had a heart. Her vision became blurry; she could no longer see Buffy or the others, she could no longer see...she could no longer see! But she could feel, oh God, she could feel...she felt evil she never knew existed pass through her again and again and it was unbearable...

...and she screamed, suddenly back in human form on her hands and knees in the Summers living room. Joyce ran to gather her in her arms, holding her close until her uncontrolled trembling ceased.

"Oh God," Dawn breathed shakily as her tremors began subside. "That's what it's like. It's horrible, it's so horrible." She looked at her mother wide-eyed. "I have to choose to go back there. I have to choose to be...to let them..." Tears streamed down her face as her mother nodded.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Joyce whispered. She spoke to the air angrily. "She's just a child, this is too hard. You can't ask her to do this! You can't ask me to let go of another daughter!"

Dawn closed her eyes, hearing her sister's voice inside her head, telling her that they shared the same blood. She heard Giles talking about risks and sacrifices. And most of all she heard her own voice inside her head, promising to do anything. She opened her eyes, terrified but suddenly determined.

"Tell the Powers I agree. Take my body. Take all the memories of me. I give all of it to Buffy. They can have everything. I'll still be me, even if I'm me inside my sister. She's the Slayer. The world needs her. She wanted me to live for her, and I won't be breaking my promise. I'll just live through her instead. Anything they want, just bring Buffy back!" Sudden awareness flowed through Joyce and she realized that by making this choice both her daughters would be saved. She sobbed in relief as Dawn looked on questioningly. Joyce smiled through tears and opened her arms to her daughter, holding her for the last time.

"Dawnie, you did it. You passed the test. You found your gift."

"My body is my gift?" Dawn asked, though it was a rhetorical question. Summers blood was what Buffy had given her. It was only fair she should return the favor. "When are they going to take my body away? When are you going to forget me?" Joyce shook her head smiling.

"Never, Dawn, I'll never forget you. The Powers needed to be sure you would be willing to sacrifice your human form...it's the Key energy that they'll be taking instead. From now on you'll be a normal teenage girl, and you'll grow up and have a wonderful life. It's everything I ever wanted for you, baby."

Dawn broke down at her mother's words and wept in her arms.

"I love you, Mom. Please stay with me. Don't leave!" Dawn felt herself beginning to fade from the scene, but as she vanished, she caught the faint reply.

"I'm always with you Dawn. I'm in your heart. And your sister's heart. Take care of each other for me."

*****


	5. Part Five

Title: Hello Goodbye (Part 5 of 12)

Author: Jeffrey Patrick

Description: The gang must discover their gifts in order to bring back the dead Slayer.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a rubber machete and a nose for picking good partners! Joss Whedon and the fab folks at Mutant Enemy own Buffy and all related characters. It's their ocean. I just wade in it.

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Angel cursed beneath his breath. He had searched all over Sunnydale for Spike and was coming up empty. Then, near a construction site, he caught the familiar scent of Spike's tobacco. It dawned on him the significance of the place, and his heart went cold. Stepping through a large round hole in the stone wall, he made his way inside. There he found Spike taking a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it the ground. He didn't stomp it out. Instead, he stared at the glowing butt until it died.

"Why are you here?" Spike asked without ever looking up.

"Looking for you," Angel said, stepping on the butt. "We have a shot to bring her back."

Spike looked up at him with questioning eyes. Angel stared back and was surprised to find actual caring. Then suddenly Spike's eyes turned cold, and he looked away. "What will she do then?" Spike asked.

"She'll live. She'll be with us," Angel said, not understanding.

"She was WITH us before, Sunshine. Fat lotta good that did her. She wanted out, man. You had to have seen that. Once her mum died…"

"I know," Angel said. "She shut down. Xander told me about it."

"Lackbrain talked to YOU? He hates you."

"Maybe. But Xander and I… understand one another better than either of us likes to admit. He called me shortly after Willow came to bring the news."

"Yeah, well, Droopy's in bad shape," Spike said, rubbing his jaw. "He took it out on my chin. I'm the only one that wants to admit what happened."

"Or maybe you want to believe it so you feel better about letting her down."

Angel had expected a violent response. Instead, Spike pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit it with his trusty Zippo. He took a drag and slowly exhaled the smoke in a thin jet.

"We can get her back," Angel said. "We can make things better… for everyone."

Spike looked up at him. "What's the catch?"

Angel shook his head. "I don't know. Cordelia said the powers were going to test us. All we know is that if we fail…"

Angel blinked. "She'll never…return?" He looked about him. The construction site was gone. He was in a clearing. The moon was in the sky. Darkness wrapped around him as comfortably as his duster. He knew the place well. He glanced at his watch. "Damn." It was midnight.

"You remember," a voice said. A chill shot from the base of Angel's spine to the back of his head, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand at attention. "You do, don't you , Liam?"

"You aren't real," he said, refusing to turn and face her. "She's dead. Long dead."

"That I am," she said softly. "But not gone from your heart, dear Liam. That is why I was chosen by the Powers to lead you to your task."

"I was buried over there… on the other side of those trees." He took a step in that direction, then hesitated. "Until…"

"Until tonight," she said. "When you were born again."

"Not the terminology I would use," Angel said. "This is it? This is the night that Darla..?"

"Go and look," she said. "None will see you."

Angel moved toward the trees, hoping the girl wouldn't follow. He crept through the trees, feeling the need to be quiet. He saw the clearing on the other side. There was movement. He got as close as he dared and stayed hidden lest the girl's statement prove false. He crouched to get a better view, just as Darla's familiar form moved gracefully toward the grave. For the next few moments, he watched and listened. He remembered the moment as though it were the day before. He suddenly felt very empty and not a little disturbed. 

A displacement in the air along with the scent of lilacs warned him the girl was just behind him. "Why are you showing me this?" he asked as the newly risen Angelus and his mistress Darla strolled off into the night. "The Powers don't need to remind me that I have a lot to atone for."

"This is not about atonement, Liam." The girl touched his shoulder, and the view before him changed. He was still crouching, but found himself in front of a familiar home.

"Not here," he whispered.

"Yes, Liam. The truth lies within those walls," she said.

"I won't go in there."

"You must," the girl said, "or you have lost the gift you hope to give."

He stood to his feet. After he took a moment to steel himself, he stepped toward the familiar site. He hadn't stepped inside it since that night long ago. It was a night he had done his best to drive far from memory. He stood at the door for a long while. It was the servant's entrance. Horror crept across his mind, gripping him with icy fingers. He actually felt himself tremble.

"Step in," the girl said. "The door is of no consequence."

He did as she said, and passed through the door as though he were a specter. On the other side, he found an empty servant's quarters. He had spent many a night there, taking advantage of her right under his pious father's nose. It had been such a joke to him then. He hadn't cared for the woman at all. She was a distraction… nothing more. She was just another way for his actions to hurt his father, which was, for the most part, his only ambition in life at that time. He made his way to the door on the opposite side of the room.

He drifted slowly down familiar hallways, recalling long forgotten sensory perceptions. The scent of fire drifted to his nose. It came from the family room where his father was taking his after dinner nap. There was a tapestry in the hallway. He stopped and stared at it. It depicted several Bible stories in intricate detail. His mother had purchased it from a sailor who claimed to have brought it all the way from India. She had been so pleased to find her Western religion depicted in a piece of Eastern art, that she purchased it for a hefty sum without ever bothering to consult his father. As a boy he had listened for weeks to the arguments centered around the purchase. His father had found out from a London patron that the tapestry was as phony as the sailor who had sold them. It had been crafted in an orphanage not 50 kilometers outside London proper.

Angel smiled. It hadn't made a bit of difference to his mother. She kept it on display as proudly as if it were genuine. His father eventually gave up the battle to have it removed. Angel stepped forward, uncertain if he would reach right through it.

"You can touch it," the girl said.

He ran his finger along the weave. It was made remarkably well to be the work of children. His index finger came across a small cut in the fabric. He had put it there as a teen, practicing his fencing in the hall after his mother had asked him to stop. She had been terribly upset with him, but he had blown it off. "It's only a stupid picture," he remembered saying. He put his finger through the slice and felt the cold wall behind it. 

"She was sewing in the parlor," the girl said. "She always did this time of night."

"I remember," he said softly. He moved to his left, down a shorter hallway. Candlelight flickered from an open doorway. 

"You must go in," the girl said. "In there lies the gift you seek."

"No," he said, feeling a cold tear run down his cheek. "There is nothing in there for me but terror and damnation. It began here. The torment I rained upon this place… upon all of Europe… started here."

"Your life began here, Liam. Both births brought pain and difficulty. You had the face of an angel," she said. "But somewhere in your soul, you were sick long before this night."

He took another step toward the doorway. "I know."

"Go in," she said. "Only by facing this moment will you understand. It is why you were brought here… to this place and time."

"And if I don't?"

"You'll never know what you had to give the Slayer."

"My love," he said, anger rising in his voice. "I gave her my love… my heart. I gave her everything."

"Except what she needed, Liam. You were to move on toward your destiny. Had you found your true gift for her, she might never have died. Had you learned the truth… had you faced your failings, instead of falling back into them…"

"When Darla returned?"

"Yes. Had you not stepped off the path, the Slayer would still be alive. Yet now, when faced with the chance to correct it, you want to hide."

"I'm not hiding," he snapped. "You don't understand. In there is everything I fear."

"In there is a truth long denied you. Why do you seek to avoid it?"

"I avoid it because I live with it every day… every moment. I know what I've done… the atrocities I've committed."

"No," she said quietly. "You avoid it because guilt has become your home. You avoid it because, of all the darkness you have rid yourself of, you hold this one as a remnant. You cling to it as a reminder of your sin… your failure. But you are blind, Liam. Go inside. Open your eyes."

He stood there, staring at the dancing light on the door. He turned to face the girl for the first time, but she was gone. He looked back at the doorway, and slowly made his way to it. The sight beyond it brought a smile to his face, even as tears dropped from his chin. His sister twirled around to some imagined tune. Her doll, Lady Katarina, was in her arms. He remembered she was never without it, in spite of his constant teasing that she was far too old for dolls. They both looked like heavenly creatures in the candlelight.

He had bought the doll himself as a Christmas gift several years earlier. A German wanderer had sold it to him for the cost of a warm meal. He said it had belonged to his daughter, also named Katarina, who had died nearly three years earlier. The wanderer had nothing left of her. He had begged Angel to let him keep the doll. Angel shuddered at the memory of the man stuffing the food into his pockets, weeping all the while.

There was a light knock at the door. Angel stepped inside frantically. "No!" His sister stopped her dance and looked at the door leading to the courtyard. "Don't open it!" He knew it was hopeless. She couldn't hear him. Still, he kept yelling. "You can't let him in! He's…"

The young girl unbolted the door after a momentary struggle to loosen it. Angel cringed at the sight before him. Angelus knelt on one knee until he was just below the girl's eye level. "Liam?" she asked. "How can… how can it be you? Father said that…"

"Father was wrong," Angelus said with a grin. "He often is, you know."

She stepped back, obviously confused at the site before her. "You are not dead?"

"I've never felt more alive," he answered. "Though I may die of cold if not invited in."

"Don't do it," Angel pleaded from behind her. "Please! Please, just don't…"

"Perhaps I should get Father," the girl said. 

"No, darling," Angelus said. "I wish to surprise him with the good news myself. Sweet sister, do you doubt me? It is truly I. Your darling Liam has returned. Surely you have not forgotten my face. Only a few days have passed since last we spoke."

"It is not that," the girl said. "I could never forget the face of my brother. It is the face I have long treasured. You are my angel and dearest friend."

"Then look deep into these angel eyes," Angelus said with his most charming smile, "and invite your brother in."

"No," Angel whispered as he heard the invitation from his sister's lips.

In horror he watched as his familiar face gave way to a demonic visage just seconds after entering the home. His sister was the first. In moments, her limp body slumped to the floor as Angelus licked her warm blood from his lips. Angel knelt beside her unable to stop the tears. Angelus swept out of the room, headed for the parlor where Angel's mother would be the next to die.

"I'm so sorry," he cried, touching the girl's cold cheek. "So sorry."

"Listen to her," the voice said. He turned, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. He turned back to his sister. Her pale, thin lips moved slowly. She was trying to say something.

Angel fought back his tears and put his ear close to the girl's mouth. Her breath was light and tickled his ear. He got even closer. She was saying something so softly, he could barely make it out.

"Not… Liam. Not… my… angel. Not… Liam."

"I realized it was not you," the voice said. He turned to see his sister standing before him in her prettiest dress. "Because you could never hurt me."

"I killed you," he said, looking away.

"No. Angelus, the demon, killed me, Liam." She let her hand rest softly on his head. "You and he are not the same. Even then I knew what you do not."

"It doesn't matter," Angel argued, picking up her blood stained doll. "You said yourself I was soul sick long before I was turned."

"Yes," she said softly. "Yet you were always there for me. You were my world, Liam. I danced that night, in spite of my sadness, because I felt you there. When I danced with that doll, I was dancing with you again. Even in death, you lifted my spirits… comforted me. I loved you so."

"I stopped dancing with you," he said. "I was too busy to be bothered with you. I bought that damn doll to take my place. I left you long before I killed you."

"No," she said softly. "Angelus killed me. You know this, Liam. Why do you cling to it? It is not what keeps you on the path. It is not what drives you to redemption. What make you a hero is the angel that I always saw inside you. Your heart may have been poisoned, but you hadn't completely lost the ability to love. I felt it, Liam. Your eyes lit up when I danced for you. In spite of your struggles, you loved me."

He turned to her, unable to see through his tears. She put her arms gently around his neck. It was nearly unbearable. He wept and wept, not knowing if he would ever be able to stop. When he finally regained his composure, she smiled at him warmly. "There is a question, Liam, that I must ask. Think long and hard before you answer it. If you do not answer correctly, your gift is lost. You will never have it to give the Slayer, because it will never be yours to give."

He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand and nodded.

"What gift do you have to offer the Slayer?" she asked.

Angel closed his eyes, letting his memories of Buffy flood over him. He recalled sitting with her beneath a tree in the cemetery the day of her mother's funeral. It had been the last time he saw her before her own death. There was a question in her eyes, one he couldn't answer for her at the time. Then his mind ran over everything his sister had shown him. He puzzled over it all for what seemed like hours. All the while, his sister smiled at him, as though she believed he would eventually understand.

When it finally dawned on him, he spit it out before taking even a moment to second guess himself. "Forgiveness," he said. "My gift is forgiveness."

Her smile disappeared. Had Angel's heart been beating, it surely would have stopped at the sight. "Why do you say forgiveness, Liam?"

"Because, you were right earlier," he said softly. "This one death I have hidden away… for the sole purpose of punishing myself over and over again. It's been a cancer to my soul… to my heart. When Buffy's mom died, she blamed herself. With my words I told her she could have done nothing."

"But she didn't believe you?" the girl asked.

"No. Her eyes told me she didn't believe. I let it go, because…"

"Because?"

"I let it go because I feel the same way. I know in my head that Angelus the demon did the horrible things I atone for, but somewhere deep down inside…"

"You didn't believe it. You kept this moment in your memory, buried deep. You thought about how I trusted you… how you used that trust to kill me. But it was never you, Liam. I knew that before I passed into the ether."

"And because I never forgave myself, I couldn't reach Buffy that night. Her despair continued to grow. Her guilt continued to fester. Spike may have been right."

"Perhaps," his sister said. "Perhaps not."

"But if I forgive myself," Angel said, "I can offer that forgiveness to her. She won't have to return to the guilt and anguish that she left with." 

She smiled at him. He couldn't help but return it. She was so beautiful. He had nearly forgotten how she lit the room with her presence. He swept her up in his arms and kissed her cheek gently. She smiled.

"You've been given another moment, Liam," she said, kissing the tip of his nose. "Can you hear the music?"

"With you," he said, lifting her into the air, "there was always music." He spun her around as he had countless times before. She laughed. He closed his eyes at the beautiful sound of it. He knew beyond a doubt that when he opened them again, she would be gone. But she would always return to him with the strains of music and the familiar scent of lilacs in bloom.


	6. Part Six

Title: Hello Goodbye Part 6 of 12

Author: Jeanny 

Summary: The PTB are sending the Scoobies on mysterious and dangerous quests; Buffy's future hangs in the balance.

Disclaimer: Joss, Fox, and Mutant Enemy rule the world - or at least these characters. I only own my undying gratitude towards them for their wonderful creations.

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Rupert Giles frowned to himself. He knew that the others would be looking to him for further guidance on what was to come, and he was just as much at a loss as any of them. He searched his brain for any bit of information that might serve useful, anything that might get them all through. Xander and Anya both seemed unnaturally quiet, but Willow had begun to babble about needing to study. He gave her a fond smile.

"I don't expect we're facing that manner of test, Willow. Although the entire matter is distinct from any situation documented by the Watchers' Council to my knowledge," Giles said, mildly proud at how not like 'I have no idea what I'm talking about' that sounded. "It appears somewhat closely related to some rite of passage rituals I've read about from a few Native American tribal cultures. Warriors are sent to prove their worthiness by retrieving some object of ritual value and along the way attain visions from the gods." *Vision quest, * Giles thought to himself. *That sounds entirely possible...likely, even. *

"I seek the Grail," Xander interrupted with his usual ill-timed attempt at humor. Giles understood the reference, of course, and was about to comment when he heard Dawn laugh. He knew that they all needed to release tension, so he let it go.

"The interesting and alarming part is what Cordelia said about the risk. We risk losing what we seek to gain."

"To gain for Buffy," Dawn corrected quietly. Giles saw that she feared that he was forgetting the reason this was happening. Nothing could be further from the truth. It was the possibility of getting his Slayer back that was keeping him together through it all. He had to remain strong, for all of them, but most of all for Buffy. He was not going to let her down again.

"Yes, of course," he said, trying to convey those feelings to Dawn through his expression. He wasn't sure if he was successful. Sometimes being British made these things difficult. "No matter what is going to happen, we really must be on our guard at all times. I believe that the mystic forces we are dealing with may be forces of good, but they can still be quite dangerous. It is also unclear if the failure of one of us will affect the group as a whole. There could be dire consequences, perhaps for all of us." He could see from the others' expressions that only Willow and Tara seemed to be actually listening, and that his speech had made things worse for them. Giles was silently berating himself when Xander began to speak.

"That's it, Giles, from now on you don't get to make the big pre-battle speech, because you're"

Hot. He was outside, and he was hot. Giles shaded his eyes as he squinted across the horizon. He was in a desert, one with which he was singularly unfamiliar. The heat coming off of the sand was stifling, to be sure, but that alone could not account for the extreme discomfort in which he found himself. When he looked at himself he realized why. He was dressed in a tweed suit he hadn't worn since the library burned to the ground.

"Ah, good, you've arrived. And on time, off to a good start, then." Giles started back from the figure that had suddenly appeared directly in his line of sight. Some kind of mirage or ghost was his first thought, but he seemed terribly real. He moved in a bit closer, trying to assure himself it wasn't some trick of the light... or of his mind.

"Is that really you, Father?" The elder Giles cracked only the barest hint of a smile, but his son knew that for him this was extreme emotion. He looked his son over quickly, nodding.

"Rupert, I believe I taught you not to ask questions to which you already know the answers. You look...adequately presentable. Watch your posture, boy." Giles automatically stood straighter. The elder Watcher turned from him and started to walk across the seemingly endless expanse of sand, his son hurrying to follow.

"Sir, if I may ask, where are we going?"

"Not we, boy. You. I believe you're already aware of what is happening. You're going on a journey, a vision quest, I believe you called it." His father sniffed in disdain. "Sounds rather pointless to me, but it certainly is not my decision. Furnishing guidance, that's what a Watcher is supposed to do."

"Father..." The elder Watcher's eyes had grown distant, but at the sound of his son's voice he snapped back to attention. He eyed his son intensely.

"This is going to require all of your skills, all of your Watcher training. Remember everything you've been taught. Fortunately the actual task you must perform is simple. You will cross this desert to get to that mountain." Giles squinted in the direction his father was pointing. The mountain in question was very small on the horizon.

"That seems quite far," he muttered. His father nodded agreeably.

"It does. Quite. Now, once you've arrived you will climb the mountain."

"Climb?" Giles asked weakly. His father gave him a stern look.

"I do believe that is what I said. Listen carefully, Rupert, anything I say might have the utmost importance to your success. Now near the top of the mountain you'll find a small cave, more like a crevice, really. In that opening you'll find an ancient scroll and a talisman. You will return with those items in hand to this very spot. At that time you'll be asked to explain your visions." Giles looked around. The spot they were at looked in no way distinguishable from any other spot.

"Visions?"

"Yes, visions, Rupert. You really must listen more closely, you're missing everything that's important. The visions will help you to answer the question, and the question is the entire point of this exercise."

"I know I'm going to regret this, but...what question, Father?"

"What question?? What question??" his father exploded. "Do you mean to tell me that you don't even know the question? You haven't changed at all; you never listen; the girl told you...might as well never begin at all if you don't yet understand the question!" Sudden inspiration hit Giles and he interrupted his sputtering father.

"The question is what is my gift for the Slayer? And I will lose it if I don't succeed." His father calmed down immediately. It was as if he had never made the outburst.

"Indeed. If you do not succeed, my boy, you never had it in the first place. Now, you'd best start. Sooner gone, sooner back, is what I say." Giles looked towards the mountain with a sigh. He had no supplies, and the tweed suit was stifling. He waited for his father to continue, but there was only silence.

"And what are you going to..." Giles trailed off. His father was gone. Giles took another look at the distant mountain and sighed again. The heat was unbearable. He swiftly removed his jacket and tie. He thought for a moment, then removed his shirt as well. His undershirt offered some coverage, although he was certain he was in for quite a sunburn. He used the necktie to fasten the dress shirt over his head in a makeshift turban, then gathering his jacket in his arms started off with as much dignity as he could muster.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he collapsed. Without any water and with the relentless beating down of the sun, he felt as if he had been burned to a crisp, not much left. A fragment of a conversation he had had with Buffy flitted through his mind, something about how long it took to bleach bones. He remembered telling her it would take weeks, but he was beginning to think he might have been wrong about that time frame. He sprawled on the sand, lacking the energy or the will to move any further.

"Well, this is disappointing," his father's voice came from above him. He looked up at the man standing next to him. His father looked ridiculously crisp despite the heat, and wore an all too familiar frown.

"I...cannot..." Giles rasped, the dryness in his mouth making just speaking those two words difficult. His father shook his head.

"So it seems, my son. So it seems. More's the pity. Any Watcher worth his salt would have been able to get there and back by now. And I had such hopes for you," the elder Giles added mournfully.

"Now see here, I simply don't see where that's at all possible!" Giles managed to speak indignantly despite the sandpaper feeling in his mouth. His protests fell on the desert wind, as his father had once again disappeared. "I do wish he would stop doing that," Giles muttered. He dragged himself to his feet and staggered on.

Some time later he looked up and saw birds circling overhead. They were buzzards, and he was fairly certain they were not part of any vision. He fell down again, moaning through lips cracked and blistered from the sun. He heard a sound over the slight wind and sighed. If it was his father again, he was in no hurry to explain himself. After a moment he realized that the sound was more...growly...than his father had ever been. He looked up into the eyes of a lion, standing just a few feet from his nose and regarding him somewhat skeptically. Giles gasped, then realized what the lion must be.

"Ah, good. You would be a vision, yes? Some kind of spirit animal, perhaps, here to impart wisdom to me?" The lion tilted its head slightly and sniffed. To Giles it sounded quite disdainful. Then it moved in closer, and Giles felt its hot breath in his face. Hot breath that smelled...not so great. There had been nothing in any of the books that Giles had read about hot, smelly spirit animal breath. Despite his dry throat, Giles swallowed. "Ah, so this would be a real lion, then. I see."

The beast merely growled at him in response. Giles still had that strange sensation that the lion had found him lacking, but that didn't mean he wouldn't serve as dinner. A sudden idea occurred to him, and he slowly reached for his jacket. He knew he had no chance of outrunning the animal, but perhaps distraction was possible. He reached into the jacket pocket, never breaking eye contact with the growling cat.

"You there...stay where you for just...one...more...second..." Giles rasped to the beast, his shaking fingers finally finding the thing he had been looking for. He pulled out his glasses, hoping he could do this right. While he was out of practice, this kind of illusion had been part of this Watcher's training. He took his eyes off the panting animal for a second to judge the position of the sun, noting with a sigh that it was still beating down strongly. Something nagged at the back of his mind, but not having the time or energy to devote to the thought, it was soon lost. Instead, he readied himself to perform this slight bit of magick, knowing that he would only have a few minutes before the lion recovered. He aimed the glasses towards the sun, reflecting the light off of them and into the lion's eyes momentarily. The animal growled, looking away, and that was when Giles muttered the words of the spell beneath his breath.

"Where there is one, let two appear...generotro kioo..."

There now appeared to be two of him, mirror images, and the animal turned, confused, towards the false one. As the real Giles turned and ran, the mirror Giles ran in the opposite direction, the lion in fast pursuit. Giles knew that he had scant moments before the beast would overtake his illusion and realize that it had pursued the wrong prey. He could only hope he could find a safe place to hide before that happened. Meanwhile a part of him mind puzzled over the presence of the animal. As a spirit animal it made sense, but a real lion was illogical. Not native to the environment, no reason for it to be here, there was something odd...again a flash of insight just eluded him. His legs were burning from his blundering run in the sand. The exhausted Watcher chanced a look behind him to see how close his ignominious death might be...and skidded to a stop. The lion had vanished, much as his father had.

"This is supposed to be a quest, not a bloody Siegfried and Roy spectacular!" Giles shouted into the light wind. As if in response, the wind picked up, whipping sand into his face. Giles held his jacket in front on him to shield himself from the sting of the sand, finally finding a good use for the tweed jacket. He forced himself to examine the situation. The lion should not be there...wrong climate. And the lion had disappeared, as did his father, repeatedly. That indicated there was something else going on, some kind of magick at work, some kind of illusion. But the desert was real, as real as the feel of tweed in his hands, as real as the sting of the sand on his face. Illusions didn't come in Sensaround. So if these things were real...Giles shook his head. He could make no sense of it. Still feeling the sand stinging him, he realized he needed more respite from the small sandstorm than the jacket could provide. Looking around, he saw a rock that appeared to be of sufficient size to block the wind if he hunkered down behind it. Without hesitation he did so, realizing that the side of the rock he was on gave him full view of the mountain that was his goal. It looked no nearer than it had at the start. His heart sank.

Giles knew he'd never make it. It was simply too far, and he was not up to the task. He was trembling with exhaustion and dehydration, and also disappointment. He would fail. And because of his failure, Buffy would lose her chance. He had not felt this guilty since...well, since his Slayer fell to her death. Giles closed his eyes. He would have wept if he had the moisture for tears. It was as if she was dying anew, because he was going to let her down. Again.

"Am I interrupting another bout of self-pity, Ripper?" Giles opened his eyes and grimaced. Ethan Rayne. He should have known.

"You're the one behind all this, aren't you?" Giles snarled. Ethan laughed derisively in response.

"Please, Ripper. You know full well that the only one responsible for this situation is you. Although I will admit to taking a certain amount of pleasure in your current state of misery. Honestly, what sort of Watcher gets himself into this kind of mess?"

"Killing you will make me feel so much better," Giles retorted, but he made no move. Ethan's words resonated within his soul. He felt they held a truth he could not stand against.

"You would think so, wouldn't you? Killing innocents does seem to make you feel better, doesn't it, Ripper? But that's certainly a conversation for another time. Right now I believe the subject is your lovely, dead Slayer. Poor Buffy. Bad enough you let her kill herself. But then someone walks up to you and offers you her life back, gives you a simple task, and look at you? One extra-crispy Watcher cowering under a rock. Sad, really."

"Bugger off, Ethan!"

"You wound me, Ripper! I thought I was brought here so that we could have a civilized conversation about your constant screw-ups."

"You were brought...who brought you here?"

"Don't you know?" Ethan's smug smile would have made Giles' blood boil, if the sun wasn't already doing the job. Ethan then put on a look of false sympathy. "Oh, I am sorry. That's right! You don't know. It is quite the puzzle, isn't it? And the wonderful thing is, if you just figured out that one thing, everything else would just fall right into place...but it's not going to happen, is it? You just don't have it in you, Ripper. You don't have the stuff, as the Americans say." Giles looked up at Ethan and suddenly smiled. It was a cold smile that Ethan knew well, and his own grin faltered.

"Ethan," Giles said agreeably, still smiling.

"Ripper?" Ethan croaked over the lump that had developed in his throat.

"Behind you," was the simple response.

Ethan paled as he heard the low growl, giving Giles one last desperate look before he spun around to see the lion, newly returned and definitely interested in Ethan Rayne. He shrieked and began to back closer to Giles, who simply laughed.

"Ripper...Rupert...you've got to help me!"

"You were right, Ethan...everything fell into place. You might want to run, he looks very hungry." Giles had to roll to the side to keep Ethan from stepping on him. Ethan backed all the way into the rock, then slowly felt his way to its edge and took off running through the sand, screaming the entire time. The lion paused and gave Giles what he sensed was a look of grudging respect, than began to gracefully run after his new prey. Giles laughed for another moment, then stood up. "All right. Let's get this over with."

A few minutes later, he was waiting for his father at the original spot. His father showed up almost immediately, wearing the faint smile that on anyone else would be a broad grin.

"Show me, boy," the elder man grunted. Giles opened his hands, and dropped the talisman and the scroll into his father's waiting hands. His father unscrolled the parchment and read, then looked at his son with a disapproving frown that was belied by the twinkle in his eye. "Really, Rupert...'I am Henry the Eighth I am?' Not very original!"

"I thought it rather clever. After all, I did translate it into Aramaic, Father. Second verse, same as the first," Rupert replied.

"Do you finally understand?" his father asked softly. Giles nodded, and the desert tableau dissolved into the familiar cool of his father's study. Looking down at himself, Giles found himself dressed as he had before he disappeared, any sign of the desert experience having vanished. His father nodded to him, and they took seats, picking up the steaming cups of tea that had appeared.

"There are different rules here...we're creating reality...you chose my challenge because it was what I was expecting...and then because I believed it was impossible, it was."

"Not to mention you turned your spirit guide into a real lion! I must say no one expected that...gave the Powers quite a turn! And then, Ethan Rayne...never did like that gadabout...well, they rather enjoyed that part. Not to worry, both of them have been taken care of." His father seemed highly amused by the problem that Giles' lion and nemesis had caused. Giles frowned at him.

"Why wasn't it a spirit animal?"

"You know the answer, it was in your mind...you wouldn't let it be a spirit guide, because of that nagging doubt...just as well, it would have been absurdly cryptic and made it that much harder for you. And you conjured Ethan from your own sense of failure. Well, enough chit-chat. Are you ready to present your gift to your Slayer, son?"

"I am, Father. I understand what it is now. I thought it was knowledge, my experience as a Watcher...but it is not simply knowledge that a Slayer needs. It's the ability to perceive beyond the senses, to look beyond the obvious...my gift is insight." Almost immediately Giles felt himself begin to fade, but not before he saw his father actually smile in approval.

"Well done, my son, well done!"


	7. Part Seven

Title: Hello Goodbye (Part 7 of 12)

Author: Jeffrey Patrick

Description: The gang must discover their gifts in order to bring back the dead Slayer.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a pickled herring, and a bug zapper. Joss Whedon and the fab folks at Mutant Enemy own Buffy and all related characters. It's their sandbox. I just bring the matchbox cars.

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Anya found that she was not nearly as bored with Giles' pre-battle speech as she usually was. Xander had changed all that. Or, more to the point, Xander and his friends had changed all of that. It was still the same old pep talk mixed with a stern lecture about their responsibilities. She listened intently though, because Buffy's life was at stake.

Ever since Joyce Summers had died, Anya had pondered the meanings of both life and death. She had been close to Joyce. It had sneaked up on her. One minute she had taken the connection for granted, much as she had nearly all her human friends. The next minute, Joyce was gone… never to return. It had changed Anya. Something down deep had been punctured, and feelings--real human feelings had rushed out, a torrent in her being. She squeezed Xander's hand as she listened. She knew he was getting ready to make a joke. He always did when he was scared.

"That's it, Giles," he quipped, "From now on you don't get to make the big pre-battle speech, because you're…"

There was a displacement in the air, and the view before her changed radically. No longer was she sitting at the conference table in the Magic Box. Instead, she found herself in surroundings no less familiar, but far less comfortable. There was a fire burning in the hearth. A small piglet was roasting over the open flame. Something deep inside her shivered, and it spread throughout her body.

"You know why you are here, yes?" a familiar voice asked.

She turned to see an older man with dark hair that was graying at the temples. She vaguely remembered the beard he often wore in the winter. The tunic he wore was the blue one that she remembered to be his favorite. Yet, in spite of the familiar appearance, her brain struggled to remember him until she saw his icy blue eyes. Only then did her thoughts reach far enough back to pull his identity from the ashes of her ancient past.

"Father?"

A slight smile curled his lips. "Anyanka. It has been generations since last I laid eyes upon you."

She looked away. She knew the test had begun, but she had never suspected that it would involve her father. She felt like she would throw up. 

"You remember your father?" he asked. "Remember your home?"

"I… remember this place."

"It is the place of your birth," he said. "It is the place of your life… before you chose the darkness."

"I didn't choose it." She sat down on the floor. "It chose me."

"Did it now?" he asked, warming his hands by the fire. "Is that the way you remember it?"

"I don't want to talk about this," Anya said. 

"You MUST speak with me, Anyanka. It is part of the test." He said it so matter-of-factly, she knew arguing was pointless. "And you must speak freely, Anyanka, lest you lose your gift."

"My name is Anya," she said nearly too softly for him to hear.

"I taught you the ways of magic, Anyanka. You did not have to accept D'Hoffryn's offer. You were becoming a decent apprentice."

"That's not what you said when I borrowed your spell book."

"You stole that book, and created a killer rabbit, Anyanka. How could I not be upset?"

Anya shuddered at the memory. "I was six years old."

"You were eight, and I had given you the rabbit for your birthday."

"I know. Just tell me what my gift is so I can go."

"I am not here to tell you, Anyanka."

"Then why am I here?" A million things flooded her head. She knew to hold them back was to risk blowing Buffy's only chance at returning from death. She also knew that she would never really open up so much to her father, but she refused to be the one who failed her test for lack of trying. "It's not like I'm important to Buffy," she continued. "Xander and the others… they have the real gifts. I can't even do magic anymore." She stood up and began pacing. "They've known each other forever. Xander loves her… and Willow. I mean, not the way he loves me… but… In some ways, he loves them more."

"Why do you say this?" he asked.

She looked in his eyes for just a second, then gazed into the fire. "I'm in love with him. I cook for him. I let him tell me about his day. I listened to him when he cried over Joyce. When Buffy died… he began shutting down. I was quiet. I've been waiting. When he is sick, I take care of him. I hold him. I have the wild sex with him. There is this one thing that he likes to do… where I dress like a…"

"Anyanka, please," her father begged. "Stop."

"But they don't do those things," Anya said. "They've never slept with him. They've never held him when he cried."

"And?"

"And he would die for them." She said it softly, but the words seemed to hang in the air. "He loves them… differently than he loves me."

"You are jealous of this?"

"A little. He isn't IN love with them. It's just that…"

"What, Anyanka?"

"Something tugs at me."

"You don't trust him?"

"I do. It's just…"

"Olaf ruined you. You used to be a trusting girl. But after you got mixed up with him, you turned to D'Hoffryn."

"I'm sorry," she said. 

"Are you?" He stuck a stick into the fire and used it to light his pipe. "After all of my attempts to raise you properly… to guide your steps, you turned on me."

She looked at him with tears in her eyes. She had tried to forget.

"Your mother was heartbroken," he said. "Honestly, Anyanka… a pig?"

"I… I…"

"I wound up over a spit. How could you, Anyanka? I was your father. I had never done anything to deserve such hatred. I was a good husband… a good father. But you sold your soul, and cursed me. You betrayed me, Anyanka. Is that your gift for the Slayer?"

"No, I…"

"The reason you cannot seem to trust your young man is because you, yourself, are not trustworthy, Anyanka. You know this is true."

"No," she said, her voice rising noticeably. "It's NOT true."

He smiled at her. "I'm afraid it is. The Slayer will never return to the life she knew, because you have no gift to offer."

"I DO have a gift, Father. It's the only gift I've ever had. Funny, because if you would've asked me earlier today what my gift was, it would've been the magical evening I can create with just a camcorder, a fruit salad and a… Anyway, I would've been wrong. I may be a lot of things… a bad daughter… and bringer of a heck of a lot of pain and suffering in my vengeance demon days… a jealous girlfriend… all of those things. But there is one thing I have always been. Honest. I tell it the way it is."

He turned his back to her, as the memories flooded her mind. Things long buried in the darkest recesses of her soul. Tears began to fall from her eyes, but she knew she had to continue.

"I was sixteen. Your brother had come to stay, with my cousin, Miran. She was a year younger than I was… the little sister you and mother never gave me. One night, I woke up to find her missing. I searched for her."

"That's enough," he said roughly. "I'll hear no more of this."

"You will!" she screamed. "It's why I'm here!"

He turned back to the fire, refusing to meet her gaze.

"She was with him… her own father was… I saw them, Father. I saw them, and I told you."

"You lie."

"No. I don't. That's my gift. When no one else wants to be honest, I tell the truth. I told you what I saw, and you punished me. You punished ME! I begged her to run away. I told her I would go with her, but she couldn't run. She was afraid of him. I begged you to help… to believe me. You refused. I told some of the men of the village, and they came for your brother. You helped him escape. You helped him ESCAPE! I never saw her again. Miran, was found dead later that year. They said that she had been gored by a wild animal, but I knew. I KNEW, Father. He killed her. He killed her, and you were just as guilty. You could've saved her. But all of the lessons you taught me about morality… were lies. You were a hypocrite. My trust was shattered. I ran away, and met Olaf. He cheated on me, true... but he was never the reason I took D'Hoffryn's offer. The truth is, I wanted the power to punish you and your brother. Miran's spirit cried for vengeance, and I was determined to answer it."

"You lie," he said weakly.

"No," she said, standing to her feet. "I faced a terrifying truth. If I have one thing to offer Buffy, it's only that I can speak the truth, consequences be damned. You were the example of everything I never wanted to be. I found out so many things about you before I accepted D'Hoffryn's offer. I know that there were many woman in your life besides mother."

"No,"

"I even know that… my dear uncle was not the only one to abuse Miran."

"No!" he screamed, getting into her face. "You are a liar!"

She smiled at him. "If you ended up as the side of bacon for someone's breakfast, it was likely too good for you."

He screamed as he disappeared. She glanced at the pig over the spit. She had thought it looked familiar. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. She had never told Xander of her father's fate, but she would. She knew that lies were a cancer. She loved Xander, and she knew he was not at all like the others… like her father. She would tell Xander everything, and he would love her anyway. She believed it with all her heart. It was, after all, the truth. She smiled and faded out of the small cottage.


	8. Part Eight

Title: Hello Goodbye Part 8 of 12

Author: Jeanny 

Summary: The PTB are sending the Scoobies on mysterious and dangerous quests; Buffy's future hangs in the balance.

Disclaimer: Joss, Fox, and Mutant Enemy rule the world - or at least these characters. I'm just doing my part in the universal Dance of Joy surrounding them.

**************************************

Silence. Tara was comfortable with silence. In fact, one of the hardest parts about being part of the 'Scooby Gang' was the constant noise. Someone was always talking, and it made it hard to think. Now she could in this quiet. The problem was all her thoughts were bad. She glanced around the room. Cordelia was staring at Willow, her expression unreadable. More accurately, it would have been unreadable to Willow if she'd noticed, but Tara could see the concern in her eyes. She gave her a smile, but it faltered. Again, the thoughts...she needed to get rid of them. She touched Willow's shoulder.

"Willow, are you okay?" Tara asked softly. As she'd anticipated, Willow began to babble. It was her girlfriend's nature when nervous to be excessively verbal, much as it was her own to be almost mute. With the sound of Willow babble and then Giles' lecture, she could almost put those bad thoughts to rest. Almost.

What could she give Buffy? This was the main thought that was plaguing Tara. She still felt horrible guilt for getting her brain sucked, though she knew that was beyond her control. If she hadn't, just maybe...well, who really knew what might have happened? And beyond that, what did she have to bring to the table that wasn't already here. Willow was a much more powerful witch than she was. Giles was smarter, Xander was funnier. Anya had been a demon and had all that...having-been-a-demon-for-a-millenium knowledge. And Buffy...Buffy had been the Slayer. And her friend. Tara really felt that she had become friends with Buffy, separate from their obvious connection through Willow. She missed their after class talks and going for mochas and ordinary things like that. She really wanted Buffy back. Tara was stirred from her thoughts by the feel of Willow's shoulder suddenly tensing. She tuned back into Giles' speech.

"...quite dangerous. It is also unclear if the failure of one of us will affect the group as a whole. There could be dire consequences, perhaps for all of us." Tara was stunned. *That can't be right. I won't be the one to hurt everyone, I won't.* Tara opened her mouth to ask Giles if he was sure, and if he was, how sure was sure, but Xander was already speaking.

"That's it, Giles, from now on you don't get to make the big pre-battle speech, because you're"

Tara shivered, disoriented. She couldn't see anything; she was surrounded by total darkness. She could no longer feel Willow's warm shoulder beneath her hand. Xander had been cut off as cleanly as if someone had turned off a radio. Instinctively she knew that she was no longer in the Magic Box. But this place...something about it felt very familiar, but she couldn't make the memory come. She took a deep breath, trying to pull herself together as she felt the chill of fear spread through her.

"W-w-willow? Anyb-body?" Tara would have been annoyed at the return of her stutter if she hadn't been so preoccupied. Under the circumstances, a speech impediment was the least of her worries. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she whispered. "F-f-fiat Lux," and a tiny spark illuminated her immediate surroundings. It was the best she could manage without the catalyst for the spell, but at least she was no longer totally in the dark. She started to breathe easier until she realized just exactly where she was.

"The cellar. Oh goddess, not the cellar!" Tara whimpered, bile rising in her throat. She fought down her panic, swallowing frantically. She tried to force herself to remain calm, but she couldn't imagine a more terrible place she could have found herself. If Buffy and the others hadn't helped her stand up to her father right before her birthday, this is where she would have...a wave of dizziness swept through her. She was drowning in memories. Desperately she put her hands over her ears as if that could block them out. 

[Huddling at the bottom of the stairs. The light swinging. Arms grabbing her...voices...

"Tara, I told you not to come down here until I was done with your momma's cleansing. It's dangerous for you to be near her now."

"B-b-but-"

"You need to learn to listen to me and obey. Or else I won't be able to help you."

Hot tears on her face. Her mother crying out.

"Momma!"

"Leave now, Tara!"

"She s-s-sounds b-b-bad."

"You've interrupted the cleansing, Tara. Of course she sounds bad. I have to get the evil out of her!"

Her mother's face, swollen and discolored. Her own screams, then her father's push sending her falling...the pain when she hit the stairs, fresh tears and her father flying through the air. Her mother's black eyes...

"Get out of here, girl! Now!" Running up the stairs. Stopping to look back. Her mother bowing her head, her father growing closer. He's smiling.

"You will be cleansed, my dear. I will beat that demon down." Shivering...he sounds happy.

"Please..." Her mother's whimper before the door slammed shut.]

Laughter. It took Tara a moment to realize that the sound was real, not a memory. She knew that laugh, and she rushed towards it. She had to see.

"Baby girl, y'all made a little light...just like your momma showed you." As Tara grew closer to the voice, dim light began to illuminate the room. Her mother looked exactly as she had the last time Tara had seen her. Tara swallowed.

"M-momma? Are you real?" Her mother laughed again, the sound making Tara's heart quiver.

"Come here, baby. See how real I am." Her mother's frail form grew closer, and Tara could feel that she was solid. *She's not cold, she's not cold, she's not cold* her mind chanted. Her shaking fingers reached out and her mother's grabbed hold, and she felt IT. The power. As the forgotten warmth of it spread over her, making her whole body tingle, tears began to slide down her face.

"It's really you." Her mother pulled her into her arms, and they stood for a moment in silence. Tara closed her eyes. When her mother had died, she had thought she would never feel safe again. Then Willow's arms, in a different way, made her feel protected and loved. Willow...the thought made her pull away.

"This is my test. Why here?" Her mother gave her a little almost smile.

"I'm not really sure. But I'm here to help you." Her mother took one quick look around and shivered.

"Momma, Daddy lied. W-we're not demons. Not even part." Tara was unaware that there was something of a question in her tone. Her mother's face clouded, misery permanently etched into its lines.

"It's not that simple, baby girl." Tara shook her head, mystified.

"I don't understand." Her mother gave her a sad sigh.

"It's the power, Tara. The women in our family have great power. They told me it was the demon in me. I knew I didn't feel evil. But I knew I could be, too. And I couldn't take the chance, baby. I couldn't take the chance." Tara shook her head in disbelief.

"You couldn't. You couldn't hurt anyone, ever." Her mother shook her head. Tara got another flash of her father flying through the air and her mother's obsidian eyes, like Willow's had been. She frowned uncertainly.

"There's so many things I wish I could tell you, Tara. But I can't. There's no time, and the test is about to begin." Tara felt a surge of frustration, but fought it back down. She had to remember she was here for one reason: to help Buffy.

"Tell me. What do I have to do?"

"You have to face somebody who knows you, maybe better than anyone ever has." Her mother paused to wipe sudden tears. "It'll become clear when you do. Don't let her confuse you. You have to know yourself, Tara. That's all the advice they'll let me give you. If you can do that, the Slayer will have your gift. If not..."

"I'm not sure I understand. Face someone who knows me? But you know me better than anyone." Her mother began to back away, tears shining in her eyes. The light dimmed as she retreated.

"I have to go, baby girl. They won't let me stay. Remember, know yourself. Then you'll know your enemy."

"No, Momma. Don't go!" Tara cried.

"I love you, Tara," her mother whispered. 

"Is it W-willow?" Tara asked weakly in the near total darkness. Silence. Tara was beginning to hate the quiet she had once craved. She again clasped her hands over her ears to drown out the ghosts.

"...interrupted the cleansing...evil... I will beat that demon down..." Her father's voice echoed in her mind.

"Daddy was wrong, Momma. There's nothing evil about us," Tara whispered.

"Liar." Tara's breath quickened. She knew that voice. It tormented her in the dark almost every night.

"No," she moaned.

"Hey, it's okay," the voice soothed. Bright light flooded the room, and Tara looked into the eyes she had prayed she'd never see again. She was rooted to the spot.

"Glory...ummm, no, you're dead," Tara said stupidly. The blonde hellgoddess tossed her head and favored her with a cold, mocking smile.

"So's your mother, but you didn't mind getting a little visit from her, huh? And let's face it, when you suck a brain, you really get to know a person. I think it's time that you and me had a little girl talk." Glory began to stride toward her, and Tara's paralysis was gone. She bolted for the stairwell.

"Stay away from me!" she screamed. Tara tripped over her own feet and fell as she reached the stairs. As she lay sprawled against them, she was overwhelmed by a sense of déjà vu. Tara looked back and saw that Glory was making no move to follow her; instead, the hellgoddess was studying her manicured nails with casual interest. Tara simply stayed where she was, the harsh sound of her breathing loud in the small room.

"Please don't stop, sweetie. If I have my way, Blondie'll just stay dead, know what I'm saying?" Gathering herself, Tara rose shakily from the stairs and slowly crept back towards Glory. She tried to steady herself, reminded again of why she was here.

"Buffy."

"Little martyr." Glory made a face and went back to studying her bright red nails.

"This is about Buffy." Glory gave a short bitter laugh.

"This is about you, sweetie. All about you. The girl of the hour."

"I don't understand."

"Liar. I think you do. In fact I know you do. This is about who and what you are, honey. Ready for that?"

"Yes."

"Errrrr!" Glory yelled, whirling on her and imitating a game show buzzer. Tara instinctively backed up a step. "Another lie! That's three in less than a minute. At this rate your Slayer's gonna stay pretty dead. Which, when it comes right down to it, suits you just fine, doesn't it?" Tara just stared at her in shock.

"What?"

"Don't pretend, with me...I sucked your brain! I know what you really think about your so-called friends. You pretend to be so nice, so weak, but you can be strong, can't you? You are just chock ful of hate. I really like that about you."

"I...I....no..."

"That was articulate," Glory responded sarcastically. "Let me help you out. You hate your father for telling you that you were a demon, and you hate your momma for believing it. You hate all those kids who teased you about being a freak, including your idiot of a brother."

"I don't-" Tara began weakly, but Glory easily cut her off.

"And you hate Buffy Summers, because she's got a part of your witch lover that you never will. All that hate is like a great big power source, and you've got the juice. Pretty wild, huh? You're just afraid to use it."

"I don't have that kind of power." It came out as a whisper, as Glory was now standing in her face, so close that Tara felt unable to breathe.

"You do."

"I'm not a monster. I love my momma..."

"Never said you were a monster, sweet cakes. And as far as love goes, you know what they say, thin line, blah blah blah. I'm just saying that the darkness is what drives you. That's why you go off on your little witch friend the way you do."

"I love Willow," Tara said, sounding stronger. Glory just laughed.

"You resent the hell out of Willow for having the courage to do what you're too afraid to do. She has it, and she uses it. You waste it. You let me suck your brain, and you could have stopped me anytime, you know."

"You said you'd hurt people, I couldn't..."

"Like you cared about those people at all!"

"I do! I don't want bad things to happen to anyone."

"Really?" Glory grabbed Tara's chin with one hand. She slowly dragged the fingernails of her other hand back and forth across the side of Tara's face, her hand in the same position it had been in when she did the brain suck. Tara let out a shuddering gasp. "You sure about that, honey?"

Tara felt resentment build and overtake her terror. This was more than enough. She felt the rage grow, her fear and bitterness feeding it like kindling on a fire. She never saw her eyes turn black, but Glory did. Her smile was triumphant.

"Stay. Out. Of. My. Head." Tara growled and flicked both of her wrists forward. Energy flew from her fingertips and Glory flew backwards, landing with a crash. Tara moved towards her as the hellgoddess sprang immediately to her feet. She assumed a defensive posture, clearly expecting another attack. Tara simply moved in close to her and looked her in the eye. Glory looked puzzled when Tara began to speak in a measured tone.

"Maybe I do hate sometimes. Maybe I do resent my family, and maybe I even resent Willow's friends for having a part of her I don't. And maybe I want to kill you for what you did to me. I know I do, in fact. But you know what else? I love my family. I love Willow with all my heart; her smile has more power behind it than all the dark magick in the world. I love Giles and Dawnie and Xander and Anya...and Buffy. They're all my family. Buffy Summers is the best friend of my best friend, and she sacrificed her life to save the world. She stopped you, and she hurt you. And I'm sorry for you, that you couldn't get home, but that's how it had to be."

"I know you don't feel sorry for me," Glory said petulantly.

"Liar. You sucked my brain, all of it. You wanted me to believe that the dark was all there was, but we both know that I chose the light. I'll always choose the light, just like Buffy did."

Glory didn't disappear all at once, but kind of faded slowly from her sight. Tara smiled as she felt her mother's arms around her once more.

"What's going to happen to her now?" she asked. Her mother grinned.

"I see you've found your gift, baby girl. I don't know what's going to happen to her, but I know it will be what she deserves." Tara nodded.

"I'm going to leave now, aren't I?" Her mother smiled sadly.

"As soon as you speak your gift."

"I don't want to go. It's not enough time." Tara marveled at her own eagerness to stay in this place that had been the source of so many nightmares. *Those ghosts can't hurt me anymore.*

"One day we'll have nothing but time, honey. Give the gift you have for the Slayer." Tara took a deep breath, her eyes shining.

"My gift is compassion," she called out clearly to the ether, and a moment later she felt herself fade away.


	9. Part Nine

Title: Hello Goodbye (9/12)- Faith

Author: Jeffrey Patrick

Description: The Scooby Gang undergoes separate trials in order to restore 

Buffy to life.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a carrot stick and some fuzzy meatloaf.

Buffy and all related characters are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant 

Enemy. It's their playground. I just ride the circle slide.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\//\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Faith sat up straight and rigid in her bunk. It was almost midnight. It had 

been nearly 6 hours since Angel called. He was preparing to head to 

Sunnydale to warn the others. He had told her all he knew, and tried to 

sound confident that she would succeed at any test she was given. Beneath 

his voice, echoing from his heart, was the slightest hint of doubt.

She couldn't blame him. It wasn't as though she were a white hat. If 

anything, she was maybe a gray hat. But she had spent her time on the dark 

side, and hurt a lot of people. The darkness had embraced her in a way no 

one else ever had. It had nearly become her mother, playing opposite the 

mayor's father figure. But her head had since cleared, and she was 

travelling the long, hard road to redemption. Without Angel's guidance, she 

wouldn't have made it through her first few months in prison. She wasn't 

going to let him down. She wasn't going to let Buffy down.

She had been down that road. She had made every effort to hurt the only 

people that had ever even attempted to love her. Buffy had openly embraced 

her as a sister Slayer. Willow, though quiet, had accepted her into the 

Scoobies. Xander had... She had used him. That was one apology she had yet 

to make. Using him was bad enough, but then she nearly killed him... made 

him feel weak and meaningless. As she thought about the pain she had caused, 

a single tear ran down her face. Its warmth startled her. As much as she 

wanted to change, she hated feeling... the guilt, the pain, and the regret. 

She wiped the tear away with the back of her hand. She glanced at the clock.

11:59pm

She closed her eyes, recalling Angel's last words to her over the phone. 

"It's the only chance we have, Faith. The only one Buffy has. I don't know 

what this test will be, or what you will face. I only know that the Powers 

aren't going to make this easy."

"I won't let you down," she had said.

"Do your best," Angel had said. "No matter what happens, I'll be

grateful that you tried."

She felt warmth on the back of her neck. She knew it had happened. Slowly 

opening her eyes, she found herself in the desert. The sandpaper wind burned 

her bare arms as it whipped around her. She covered her eyes, trying to see 

if she was alone. It was impossible to see.

"Hello?"

"Come," said an unfamiliar voice.

"Who's there?"

"Come."

Faith took a step toward the voice. She tried to shut out the howl of the 

wind. Once she found her center, she could make out the faint sounds of feet 

shuffling lightly over the sand. She followed.

After what seemed like hours, the wind's blowing ceased. She opened her 

eyes to find herself standing before a fire. It was a foreign place, yet 

strangely... it seemed familiar.

"Hello?"

"You are the One," the woman's voice said. "The Destroyer of

Darkness."

Faith blinked. There was a young woman before her, wrapped in gauze and 

painted as a warrior.

"That's me," Faith said. "I'm the Slaygal. And you are? Wait..."

Faith studied her, as the fire danced in the young woman's eyes. "You're a 

Slayer too. Were you called after Buffy died?"

"I am the first," the woman said. "The first of many."

"Wow," Faith said, obviously impressed. "Kinda got to set the

standard, huh? Cool."

"You are the last," the first Slayer said.

"Wrong about that, girlfriend," Faith said, looking away. "Buffy has a 

chance. It's why I'm here."

"You are the last," the first Slayer repeated.

"That's not the way it works," Faith said. "One bites it, another is 

called."

"You are the last."

"Stop saying that."

"The last."

"Stop it!"

Suddenly, the desert was gone. Faith found herself alone in an alleyway. 

"What do you mean? How am I the last?"

"She means if you choose to bring back Miss Summers, the line of Slayers 

will never be the same. The rules will change."

Faith spun to see the last face she wanted to see. It was a face that 

haunted her dreams. It was the face of Alan Finch, the deputy mayor she had 

slain in that very alley. "H-how?"

"The old things shall pass away. Behold all things become new."

"I mean... How are you here?"

He smiled at her. "They sent me to tell you... what must be, if you are to 

pass the test."

"Why you?"

"As a reminder, of the worst of times," he said. "Still, another will 

remind you of the best of times."

"What do you mean the old things will pass away? If I bring Buffy back?" 

She took a step back. He was too close to her.

"You are the One," he said. "The only one, in fact. This is not the first 

time Miss Summers has slipped beyond the veil."

"I know that," Faith said, recalling the tale Buffy had once told her. "She 

drowned. Xander brought her back."

"Did he?"

"Yes. He brought her back. But a new Slayer was called the instant she 

died. Kendra, then me. That's how it played."

"And who was the Slayer?" he asked as though the answer were obvious. To 

Faith, it was.

"We both were," she said. "Buffy and I slayed together. We were sisters."

The answer seemed to surprise him. "You believe that?"

Faith looked away.

"There can be only one," he said. "One girl in all the world, chosen to 

stem the tide of darkness."

"Well, B has never been one to play by the rules," Faith said. "There were 

two Slayers. End of story."

"Not by a long shot," he said quietly. "When Buffy died, Kendra was called. 

She was the Slayer. The One. When she died, you were called."

"But Buffy was still the Slayer," Faith said. "She was strong. Put me in a 

damn coma, not that I didn't deserve it. If that wasn't Slayer power, I 

don't know what it was."

"That's the first smart thing you've said," the deputy mayor explained. 

"You DON'T know what it was."

"That's... impossible."

"She died, the power passed to Kendra. If what you believed were true, why 

wouldn't she and Buffy, or you and Buffy for that matter, be only half as 

strong as previous Slayers?"

"I think I should take it from here, Alan," said a familiar voice.

Suddenly, Faith found herself in her old apartment. The one that had been a 

gift from..."

"My pretty little Faith," Mayor Wilkins said, as Faith turned to see him. 

"It appears as though prison has been hard on you. Just look at that drab 

uniform. Blue is just not your color."

Faith looked away. She couldn't bear looking in his eyes. He stepped behind 

her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Come now, Faith. Surely we can find 

a way to turn that frown upside down!"

"Don't," she said.

"Don't what, Faith?"

"Don't talk to me like you're my..."

"Father?" Richard Wilkins kissed the back of her head. "For all intents and 

purposes, I am. I saved you."

"Saved me?" She turned to face him, only glancing up briefly at his eyes. 

"From what?"

"From mediocrity," he said with his patented smile. "The other Slayers, 

including our young Miss Summers, were too preoccupied with the common man 

to realize their true potential. But not my Faith. You had the edge, little 

girl. Can't let it dull now."

"I loved you," she said, meeting his gaze. A slight smile crept across her 

face. "You made me feel like... like I was loved."

"You were loved, sunshine," he said with a wink. "And what a team we were! 

I'm sorry you missed graduation day. I think my speech might've been on the 

dull side. It seemed the kids were just dying to get out of there!" His 

smile grew wider, and he chuckled.

Faith looked away. The smallest hint of a smile had appeared on her face, 

but her heart had turned cold. "It was wrong. I knew it. I just wanted 

someone..."

"To understand you," he finished. "I did. I was always there for you, 

Faith. They all deserted you. The little blonde girl and her hooligan 

friends... where were they when you needed them?"

"I turned them away," Faith said. "I was the bruiser. I was the Bluto."

"I believe you mean Brutus, Faith."

"Whatever. Let me bottom line it for you, Mayor. I was... wrong. WE were 

wrong. I'll never go back to that."

"So what do you think will happen, Faith? Think the Summers girl will ever 

accept you? Think she'll let you back in? Into her circle? Into her heart?"

"After what I did? No. I don't imagine she ever will. B's got a big heart, 

but every gal has her limit." She turned around and stared at the moon. "But 

the night is young, and so am I. I'll find my place."

"In a prison?" he asked. "Faith, you can be somebody. You have the power. 

They want to strip it from you. They want to take the only thing you have 

left."

She looked back at him. "What are you talking about?"

"That's the test, Faith." He stepped closer to her, and put his right hand 

on her left shoulder. "You heard what that strange little girl in the 

bandages said... and poor Alan. You are the last of your kind, Faith. There 

is power in you... flowing greater than it has in the others."

"How can I be the last?" He looked away for a second, as though he wanted 

to hide it. She grabbed his arm and turned him forcibly back toward her. She 

knew that even he would have to play by the rules this time. "Tell me."

He grinned. "Good girl. You always have known how to make the most of your 

surroundings."

"Give."

"Patience is a virtue, Faith."

She glared at him. He smiled. "Okay, okay... I never could say no to you. 

When that hideous creature called the Master, drowned young Miss Summers, 

what do you suppose happened to the Slayer powers?"

"They went to Kendra."

"Correct. And when she died?"

"They came to me."

"Correct again. So when Buffy was brought back by that slacker Harris, who 

was the Slayer? Kendra or Buffy?"

Faith looked at him puzzled. "They... they both were."

"WRONG!" he shouted in a sing-song voice. He grinned at her, and lowered 

his voice. "Was Buffy less powerful than before?"

"No," Faith said. "If anything, she kicked even more ass, to hear her tell 

it."

"And how could that be?" he asked. "If they were both the Slayer, they 

shared the power, which they clearly did not."

"Okay, stop it with the head games. Just... tell me the truth."

"When Miss Summers died, the Slayer moved on, leaving only a trace of its 

essence in her. When the boy brought her back, something dark latched onto 

her... taking the form of the Slayer spirit to mask itself. I saw it in her. 

So did you. She was fighting it back, but it would overtake her one day."

Faith turned away. "Why?"

"It had some plan, I assume. We all have our plans, Faith. Whatever it was 

planning, it must involve her still. When they bring her back, the Powers 

will allow it to grow in her still, if they must. But they fear what it 

means for them... for the world."

"Then why? Why bring her back at all?"

"They risk one darkness to stop another. Whatever her dark purpose is, 

Faith, it involves the Key. The darkness convinced your little blonde friend 

that death was her gift. It got Glory and Miss Summers out of the picture."

"But if they want to use her..."

"Why destroy her? Simple, Faith. To add more darkness to the mix. If she 

comes back without your gift... and the others, the darkness will overwhelm 

her. She will be the darkest thing this mudball has ever seen. I'd kind of 

like to see it myself, but the powers want you to step up to the plate. They 

want you to be the last... in order to make Buffy the first."

"The first?"

"Of a new breed of Slayer. The old things pass away..."

"All things become new."

"Something like that. But think about it carefully, Faith. If you do what 

they want..."

"I won't be the Slayer. They want me to give it to B. Give 

up...everything."

"Everything that makes you special," he reminded her. "Everything that sets 

you above the rest."

Faith found a crate beside the dumpster in the alley. She took aseat. "They 

want my powers?"

"They want a new kind of Slayer. They know if Buffy possesses both the 

darkness AND the Slayer spirit... well, she'll achieve balance... be more 

effective. They don't think my Faith is worthy."

Faith put her head in her hands, but said nothing.

"You and I both know it doesn't have to be this way," Wilkins said. "You 

hold the power here, Faith. They can't strip it from you. You can keep 

things the way they are."

She looked up at him with anger in her tear-dimmed eyes. "The way they are? 

The way they ARE?"

"Now, Faith, there's no need to raise your voice."

"I don't like things the way they are! I'm in freakin' jail! I hurt 

people... because YOU asked me to. I practically destroyed everyone that 

gave a damn about me, because... I felt like I was better than everyone 

else."

"You WERE better."

"No. I'll do it... whatever it takes. Bring Buffy back."

"You could go down in history, Faith. You could make your mark in blood and 

ash."

"I'd rather be on Buffy's speed dial."

He smiled at her. "This is no joke Faith. If you agree to this, you won't 

be the Slayer anymore. You'll be weak."

"I'll be me," she said flatly, "only with a little more of my soul back... 

a little more light in my heart." She grinned. "Listen to me. Sounds like I 

might break out in song any minute like in one of those fruity musicals."

He chuckled. "Yes, well... I suppose that wouldn't be such a bad thing. I 

just want you to be happy, Faith. Fathers can't help but want their children 

to follow in their steps."

"I need to find my own steps," she said. "Take it from me. Make me normal."

"Why Faith?"

"Because even if I could be sure I would do the right thing, I could never 

be the hero that B is. It was her nature. What makes her a great Slayer is 

that... well, she's B. I owe her more than I even want to think about. 

Giving this up won't quite help me break even, but it's a good start. The 

Slayer isn't me; I'm the Slayer. As long as the boogiemen are out there, 

I'll fight... powers or no powers. So take 'em, and bring Buffy back."

He smiled at her, and she felt a tingling sensation all over her body. She 

knew it was happening. When it was over, she glanced up at the moon and 

smiled. "Thanks."

Richard Wilkins ran his hand over the top of Faith's head. "Are you going 

to be okay, Faith?"

She smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the affection. "You know me. 

Always five by five."

"I have to go now, as do you, " he said, kissing the top of her head. 

"Oddly, I find myself... proud of you, Faith. And I want you to know..."

She smiled at him. He was struggling to find the words. "It's okay," she 

said. "I love you, too." He returned her smile as he faded from view.


	10. Part Ten

Title: Hello Goodbye (Part 10 of 12)

Author: Jeanny 

Description: The gang must discover their gifts in order to bring back the dead Slayer.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters; they all belong to Joss & Company. And no money's being made here...move along, nothing to see.

******************************************************

Spike stormed out of the Magic Box determined to never set foot in the place again. Part of him still couldn't believe that the whelp had actually hit him. Not the bravest move, given that he couldn't fight back, but still...you had to respect the violence. Damn Harris for being able to get his frustrations out like that. He'd give anything at this moment to be able to fill this empty feeling inside with a good old-fashioned kill. Damn them all.

He hadn't planned on heading anywhere in particular, but was unsurprised to find himself back at the construction site. He almost always ended up here. It was almost a joke, if it was even remotely funny. All roads lead to Buffy. Spike stepped past the warning barricades and into the still unfinished building with a bitter laugh. That the building still hadn't been finished after all this time was a fitting tribute. The road to Buffy was the road to ruin; Spike didn't need a chip in his head to get that one.

He had no idea how long he'd been standing there when he felt the approach of another vampire. Also not unusual; as the place where the Slayer had breathed her last, this site had become an undead tourist attraction. Wasn't the first time someone had encroached on his turf, and he felt himself tense a bit in anticipation. He might get a chance to fight someone after all. Spike lit a cigarette and waited, as the vampire grew closer. Recognition almost made him sigh. Angel. Just splendid.

Of course, it had been quite another story when Angel had explained why he had come. At first Spike had feared this was a trick. He knew that Angel was too much of a do-gooder to play such a nasty game, but Angelus had been quite another story. He saw the sincerity in the dark vampire's eyes, and for a moment he allowed himself to feel hope...but then he remembered. The light had gone out of Buffy long before she had taken herself out of the game. Buffy had finally been ready to dance, but it hadn't been a good day. Not at all.

Angel had gotten the dirt on Buffy's state of mind from Harris, of all people. This would have amazed Spike if he hadn't understood grief. People didn't realize the power it had. Spike knew that the thing that really made him different than the others of his kind wasn't his effectively neutered status or his woeful taste in women. It was his ability to understand the power in emotions. Grief could make people do things they didn't even know they were capable of...like Harris' actions tonight. He touched his jaw, remembering. He glared at Angel, standing there looking so hopeful.

"I'm the only one that wants to admit what happened." Angel let that statement hang in the air for a moment before responding quietly.

"Or maybe you want to believe it so you feel better about letting her down." For a moment Spike wanted to scream. Buffy was dead. Knowing that she had given up didn't make him feel better. And vampires didn't feel guilt. Never felt guilt. Never at all. Rather than scream he lit a cigarette; it would at least give him something else to do with his mouth.

"We can get her back. We can make things better... for everyone." Angel had that intense boy scout look about him that the Slayer always fancied. Obviously he had his heart set on going through with...whatever this was, and Spike was willing to bet that the others did too. But if the Slayer was going to be brought back, the piper would most definitely have to be paid. And Angel had told him almost nothing about what the plan was, including...

"What's the catch?" Although he shook his head, Spike could tell Angel still had something important to tell him. Whatever it was, he was certain he was going to hate it.

"I don't know. Cordelia said the Powers were going to test us. All we know is that if we fail..."

Silence. Spike blinked. Angel had disappeared in midsentence, and he roared with frustration. His fury overcame him, causing him to blindly rage about, grabbing anything he touched and hurling it as far as he could.

"If we fail, WHAT? If we fail, WHAT? I can't believe he did this to me!" Spike removed his jacket and threw it on the ground, stomping on it a few times for good measure. "Goin' in to some kind of test with the bleedin' Powers, who'd just as soon stake a bloke as look at him, and..."

He trailed off as he stared down at the jacket lying on the opulent red carpet. Spike took a good look at his surroundings for the first time. He was in a theater lobby. Due to his recent tantrum, a trashed theater lobby. Judging by the popcorn buckets and candy boxes scattered everywhere, a trashed movie theater lobby. Spike found himself almost smiling. He could remember back in the 1930's how he and Dru would come to places like this to take in a show and have a bite or two...good times. Dru loved going to the cinema, but afterwards she would continue to hold conversations with the characters for days. That part had grated on his nerves.

Surprised by the sudden wave of nostalgia, he reached down and grabbed his jacket. As if in a dream he walked through the empty lobby and entered the back of the darkened theatre. The movie was already in progress. It sounded familiar to him, but he couldn't place it right away. He stepped into the darkened room and froze staring at the screen. Staring at himself and Xander Harris, larger than life in grainy black and white footage.

"I'm not a monster," the onscreen Spike was saying.

"You are a monster. Vampires are monsters. They make monster movies about them," came the reply.

"Bloody hell," Spike whispered. "What the bloody hell is this? Somebody's sick idea of a joke?"

"Actually, I find it quite remarkable," a voice from the last row responded with cheerful enthusiasm, and Spike growled. "Well, that's hardly polite, is it? I should expect no better, I suppose, but still, I was an educated gentleman. I should have thought some of that would have carried over." Spike stalked behind the seats, reaching down and grabbing the unseen speaker and turning him around to face him. He stared into blue eyes he hadn't seen in more than a century, although there had been a time when he'd seen them in his mirror each morning.

"What the...what is this? I'm here, so you can't be. You're dead. Right?" William cleared his throat, his brown hair falling into his eyes. He was dressed in exactly the outfit he had worn when Drusilla had found him in the alley. When she had killed him. Liberated him.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd unhand me. This coat is quite my favorite," William squeaked in an attempt at bravado that failed miserably. Spike let him go. He felt suddenly numb as understanding set in.

"I was staked, wasn't I? This is some kind of intro to Hell, and you're here to start the never-ending torment. Torture me with..." He stared back up at the screen, the temporarily forgotten movie having moved on to a new scene. Dru and himself, and...her. "Oh, God."

"I'm gonna kill Drusilla for you," the on-screen Spike was saying. The unknown camera seemed to zoom in for a close-up of Buffy's face, and Spike felt like he was drowning, though that was impossible.

"That doesn't prove anything," the onscreen Buffy practically spit at him. Spike felt like she was looking right through him, and he shivered as she continued, "except that you're a sick, miserable vampire that I should have dusted a long time ago. And, hey, already there."

"That didn't go well," William remarked, also staring at the screen. "Shame, really. She is truly exquisite." Spike looked at him bitterly.

"Well, yeah. Not one of my finer moments. Also not one of my worst, as there was precious little torture and, sadly, nobody died, so why the creature feature show?"

"Oh, that's brilliant!" William responded enthusiastically. "Creature feature...what a positively wonderful expression! I must write that down..."

"Will you stop that?!" Spike cried out angrily, reaching to choke the life out of this annoyingly not dead version of himself. William gave a small womanish scream as Spike cried out from the sudden pain in his head. The chip was apparently still working, and for some reason was protecting this doppelganger.

"Now, s-see here, d-demon..." William stammered as Spike clutched his head.

"Definitely in hell," the vampire murmured, wishing he could just reach out and... That thought set his head to pounding anew.

"The Powers that sent me promised I would not be harmed."

"And you believed that, you balmy twit?" William paled and began to shrink away from Spike, who held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Would you stop being such a soddin girl? I'm not going to hurt you, I can't. Besides, not sure if I could kill you, what with you being me and being dead and all." He looked up and raised his voice, trying to address the Powers directly. "But I'm also not going to sit here eating jelly babies and playing "This is Your Bleedin' Life" with you lot, so let's get on with it, shall we? Whatever this is, I just want to have done with it. Come on, torment me some more." William stared at him blankly.

"I'm not here to torment you, demon. I'm here to offer you a choice. To help Buffy Summers." Spike gave a short laugh.

"Well, that's a simple one, then. I choose to help the Slayer. Already done it; apparently no one's been payin' attention."

"You don't understand. The Powers need you to give them something. A gift for the Slayer."

"What sort of gift?" Spike asked suspiciously. He reached automatically into his jacket pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. To his dismay it was completely crushed by his earlier tantrum. He threw it away with a sigh as William continued his explanation.

"Well, I'm not really supposed to...my instructions from the Powers are that I'm just to present you with the choice. Two paths, if you will. When you choose your path, you'll also choose your gift. If you choose correctly, you will help save Miss Summers. If not, well, things will be different."

"Okay, I've got to choose, and you've got to explain. And you'll be giving me this information when? I may be dead, but that doesn't mean I'm patient, mate. You should know that better than anyone." William straightened with a fastidious sniff.

"Indeed. To the point then. You must decide whether to continue your existence as you are, or to be restored to as you were." Spike stared at him blankly.

"You mean all tortured with a soul, like the great brooding poof?" William smirked, looking very much like the vampire he had become.

"Not quite that. You would no longer be a vampire. You would live out a normal existence as a human." He puffed up a bit. "You would be me."

"No, no, no. I can't be you. I haven't been you for...no." Spike shook his head. "I like being a vampire." William laughed condescendingly, stopping only when Spike fixed him with a hostile stare.

"What sort of vampire are you now anyway? You're unable to be true to your nature."

"What do you know about my nature?" Spike asked bitterly. William returned his gaze to the movie screen, his expression softening.

"I know you love Buffy Summers." Spike opened his mouth to protest, then changed his mind. There was no point in denying the obvious.

"Yes."

"You know you can never have her as you are. It can never be love between you," William said, gesturing towards the screen. Spike looked at the screen and moaned. That last night at Buffy's house, when his words halted her on the stairs.

"I know you'll never love me," the onscreen Spike intoned. Standing next to William in the theatre, the real Spike closed his eyes. He couldn't watch, knowing what happened that night. How he had promised to protect Dawn and had failed. "I know that I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man..."

"She'll never love you," William whispered in his ear. Spike turned his back to the screen, giving a hollow laugh and wishing again that he had a cigarette. He needed to fill up the emptiness inside of him with something, even if it was just smoke.

"No, I don't think she ever will. But a bloke has to keep tryin', eh?" He muttered with a hollow chuckle. William grabbed his arm in earnest.

"If you were human...she might. She might love you, if you were still...as I was." Spike pushed his hand away, his expression glum.

"Can't go back to being the way I was before...not now. The man that I was is dead." He fixed his double with a stare. "You don't exist any longer." William began to pace, running his fingers through his unruly brown hair. He gestured emphatically as he spoke.

"But don't you see? I could. You could. The Powers are willing to give you that, if you decide you wish to be human. And is it not worth it, for love?" The eyes of both were drawn back to the screen; the film was now frozen in a closeup of Buffy's face. "To have her love you back, is it that high of a price to pay?"

"I don't know," Spike responded angrily. "Is love my gift? Is that what you're saying?"

"I never said that! In truth, I have no idea what your gift is, but do YOU not think it's love?"

"The Slayer neither wants or needs my love," Spike answered brusquely. Could Buffy actually love him back? And if so, wouldn't mortality be a small price to pay for such happiness? He had no idea how to deal with that possibility.

"The Slayer doesn't want the love of a monster. But you...I...was a good man once. Buffy Summers could love such a man, I know it." William's eyes were shining and noble, and for a moment Spike remembered fully what he had been when he was alive. He saw a vision of himself as a man, saw Buffy in his arms. His knees felt suddenly weak, and he grabbed onto the back of the seat for support. Other memories poured into his mind and he smiled bitterly. He knew what his answer would be. He also knew it was likely the wrong one.

"The Slayer's been loved by good men, and she's been loved by monsters. She's even been loved by a good monster. It's not what she needs. I choose to remain as I am." William's face darkened in anger.

"So you choose to remain as you are? Remain less than a man? Less than a monster?"

"To remain as Buffy needs me to be."

"I don't understand." Spike laughed at how naive he had once been.

"There's no way you possibly could. You look at her and you only see a beautiful girl, someone for whom poetry is written and songs are sung. I look at her and I see...well, I see a beautiful girl, brilliant and good and brave...and a killer." He began to walk back into the lobby, William trailing behind in bewilderment.

"But...you do love her."

"Of course I do. Always will. I'm not the only one. The girl's well-loved. And she's a good Slayer, saved the world more than her share. But there's another side to her. There's a part that revels in the hunt, the fight, the ecstasy and beauty and power of death. I'm betting the Powers know all about that. She may be their instrument against evil in the world, but the power they've given her comes from darkness. We all know it. The difference is that her friends, her family, they all want to deny it. Buffy can't, not deep down. She knows what she is. She knows there's a place inside where we're alike. It's what she hates about me. And it's what I love about her." He reached the front door of the theatre and hesitated, turning back to William, who was wringing his hands in confusion.

"But she's the Slayer. She's innately good." Spike nodded with a rueful smile.

"Of course. She's the light of the bleedin' world. But she still needs the darkness. That's my gift. I know it's not much, but no one else can give it to her, and that makes me feel a bit special. Goodbye, mate. See you in hell, or thereabouts."

"Where are you going?" William called after him.

"To get some smokes," Spike answered as he passed through the doorway and faded into oblivion.


	11. Part Eleven

Title: Hello Goodbye (11/12) - Xander

Title: Hello Goodbye (11/12) - Xander

Author: Jeffrey Patrick

Description: The Scooby Gang must undergo seperate trials in order to bring the Slayer back to life.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a straw hat and some head cheese. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own Buffy and all related characters. I simply bow to their superior wisdom.

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Xander ran his left thumb over the sore knuckles of his right hand. He had forgotten that vamps didn't go down so easily. He glanced at his watch. It was eight minutes to midnight. The test would begin soon. "Great," he said to himself. "I always do so well with tests. Ugh!"

Anya smiled at him just as he turned his attention back to Giles. He was frustrated and not just a little scared. He tried to listen to Giles, but it only made the chance for Buffy to return seem that much more bleak. He glanced at Willow and Tara. They were as scared as he was. He gave a slight smile before looking to Cordelia. She grinned at him weakly. He missed her. Not in a "I want to play naked Twister with you" kind of way, but in a "I've missed having you attack my manliness, because it always made me smile" kind of way.

Anya tensed. He knew she was a little jealous, but she shouldn't have been. He loved her. Nothing would change that. For a moment, the night that Buffy died, he thought he had lost his love. He had watched in horror as debris rained down on her from the construction site turned battleground. He remembered shouting her name in a panic, not sure if she would ever say his again. He found her, battered but breathing, and his heart rejoiced. 

Only moments later, he cradled her in his arms, looking down at Buffy's lifeless body. It was then that it had happened. A thought spilled into his head that he had cursed himself for ever since. It had eaten away at him... tortured him until it exploded out as rage. Spike had been taking the physical side of it. The rest of the gang had been forced to deal with his mouth. He caught the last part of Giles' warning and felt compelled to reply.

"That's it, Giles, from now on you don't get to make the big pre-battle speech, because you're..."

There was a flash of light. "... officially up for the award for the redundancy of the year award for redundancy." Suddenly, the view around him had changed. Anya was gone, as were the others. He stood among the rubble of the Master's lair. He looked at his watch, and rolled his eyes. "My watch was slow. That figures."

"Sure it's just your watch that's slow?"

Xander immediately recognized the voice. He scanned the rubble for a makeshift stake. Not finding one he relied on charm. Turning to face his guest, he put on a warm smile. "Jesse, old pal, how are you?"

"Relax, Xan. It's me, the real Jesse. I'm not that stupid monster that you had to dust."

"How can I know that for sure?" Xander asked, taking a step closer to the pile of rubble to his right.

"Hmm. You could put a piece of wood through my heart." He turned his back as he spoke. Xander grabbed a broken piece of board and shoved it through his heart from behind.

Jesse turned, looking startled. "Ow! I was only kidding! Jeez!"

"On the plus side," Xander pointed out, "you didn't poof."

Jesse pulled the board out from the front. He was completely whole. Even his shirt was unharmed. "Nice to know you won't be breaking out the Dirt Devil."

"So," Xander said, obviously feeling uncomfortable. "You're really..."

"Yeah."

Xander took a step forward, as though he considered embracing his old friend but then quickly looked away. "I'm sorry, man... for everything that happened."

Jesse grinned. "It all good, man. I was dead the moment I starting chatting up that Darla chick."

"I should've been there."

"You were. You were there to see that the demon who was wearing my face paid for making me dance with Cordelia."

Xander smiled. "You liked her."

"So did you. Death has it's advantages, my friend. I know she dug you back for a while."

Xander sat down Indian-style on the hard ground. "That's history."

"I know," Jesse said, sitting next to him. "Anya is quite the hottie. A bit strange but..."

"Jesse," Xander interrupted. "What's my test?"

Jesse smiled at him. "Relax. This isn't Ms. Berlutti's Chem class. You'll do fine."

Xander ran his right hand through his hair. "But what's the test?"

"Well, I have to show you something," Jesse said. "After I do, you have to make a decision. As long as you pay attention, you'll do fine."

Xander stared at the ground and nodded weakly.

"Xan," Jesse said. "It was a human response."

Xander looked at him. He was obviously perplexed. "What do you...?"

"The thought."

Xander looked away again. "You can read my mind?"

"No. The Powers showed me."

"I don't want to talk about it." Xander picked up a small piece of rubble and hurled it across the Master's lair. 

"Yes, you do," Jesse said softly. "Buffy was dead. You were just..."

"Glad it was her instead of Anya!" Xander shouted, standing to his feet and kicking over a dust covered chair. Jesse remained silent watching his friend's chest rise and fall with his heavy breathing. He could almost hear Xander's heart pounding. Xander turned to face him. Tears ran down his face. "I was glad, Jesse. I was glad it was her. I knew."

"You knew what?"

"That someone wouldn't make it. That we wouldn't all make it out. And when I saw her... I was glad that it was her... and not Anya." He closed his eyes and let the tears flow. Jesse stood to his feet.

"Xander, Anya is like a part of you... It's only natural that you were glad she survived. You didn't want Buffy dead. You've saved her life yourself plenty of times. It was a human response. Buffy knows that you love her, Xan. She counts on you and Giles way more than she would ever admit."

Xander wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you see? Every man in her life, except for you and stuck-up-British-guy, has walked out on her. Her dad did. Pike did. Angel did. Riley did. They all leave... except for the two of you."

"Who's Pike?"

"Forget I mentioned him. Look, Xan, the bottom line is... she needed you in life, and she needs you now. It's up to you to figure out how to help her. Ready to take a little trip?"

Xander closed his eyes, putting away his fear. "Let's do this."

The Master's lair faded from site.

Xander looked around him. There was darkness all around save for the tiniest pinprick of light. "Where are we?" he asked.

"The Inbetween," Jesse said softly. "A place between dimensions where anything is possible... as long as you have access to that." Jesse pointed to the fragment of light that hovered alone in the darkness.

"What is that?"

"The key. The Powers control it now. The danger has passed. It can be used by the white hats now."

Xander stepped closer to it. Somehow he knew that his perspective was skewed... like he was high above it all looking down. "Dawn?"

"Not now, no. But with the key, the Powers are offering you a unique chance."

"Which is?"

"The power to make a difference. To really be someone. It's a comic book junkie's dream come true."

Xander put his hand on his old friend's shoulder. "In English, Kemosabe. Use small words with three syllables or less."

"You. As. Spider-man." Jesse said. "Or James Bond. Or Brody from Mallrats, if you think he can make a difference."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about endless possibilities. I'm gonna let you in on a little secret." Xander leaned in close. "There are millions of other dimensions."

"Right," Xander said. "That's where the demons come from."

"Sometimes, yes," Jesse admitted. "But there are parallel worlds to ours. There are earths that share common elements down to our Texas president but have other elements that are far different."

Xander looked at the key. "And Dawn has access to those? How does that help Buffy?"

"The Powers don't over share, but let's look at what I do know. There is one beginning reality... let's call that one Earth Prime. Every creative idea they have mirrors something that exists on one of these alternate worlds. Now, it may be that they think of these things and new worlds are born from their ideas. Or maybe when they create, they somehow tap into these other worlds. I don't know about all that. But on Earth Prime, everyone knows about Buffy."

"You mean they know about her being the Slayer?"

"Yeah. She has her own TV show and everything."

"Really?"

"Yep. Tuesdays at 7 central. UPN. Grr. Argh."

"UPN?"

Jesse shrugged. "I can't get a clear look into the future there, so I can't promise that if they bring her back to life there that it will happen here as well."

"You have 'but' face. Spill."

"You could start over. The Powers will let you go to any of these worlds and find a destiny for yourself as an honest-to-God hero. You could be Spider-man, like I said. There are several worlds full of superheroes and villains. You could be a Jedi, or a Highlander. Heck, you could be Bill Gates and buy off anyone who wants to hurt her. Whoever you are, you can come back before the fight with Glory. You may be able to save her single-handedly. You could be the hero."

"The hero," Xander repeated.

"You know it," Jesse said, patting him on the back. "And all you have to do is decide who you wanna be. It could be that not all of your options would be helpful. Your test is to make the right decision."

"Can I think about this?"

"Sure," Jesses said. "Time is relative here."

Xander began to pace. He always did that when he was pondering something important. He pictured himself in heroic moments... spinning a web to catch a thief, or throwing a star-spangled shield. Then he imagined himself as a Cold War spy with gadgets galore. "C'mon Xander," he thought to himself. "You've always wanted to be the hero. Think! Who would help Buffy the most?"

Hours passed... maybe even days for all Xander knew. He had long given up trying to picture the possibilities. There were far too many to choose from. Instead, he focused on Buffy and what she needed. They had gotten closer over the past year, reestablishing the bond they had lost her first year in college. When her mom had died, he felt it sharply, both because he missed Joyce and because he could almost feel Buffy's heart breaking. They had made it through together. He, Willow and Buffy had a friendship like none other he had ever seen.

Memories flooded his mind. He saw himself in that big, puffy training suit being embraced by Buffy. He saw them with Willow on the dance floor of the Bronze, dancing themselves dizzy. The images came rapidly, flooding his senses. For an instant, he was there... living in each of those moments... and when they ended, he knew.

"I made my decision," Xander said, stepping back toward Jesse who had been waiting silently. "I'm ready."

"Good," Jesse said, shoving him playfully. "It sure took you long enough. What's your flavor?"

"I wanna be me," Xander said flatly. "No powers. No costumes. No gadgets, and sadly, no girls."

"What?" Jesse seemed guenuinely confused. "Why not?"

Xander grinned. It was his first real smile since Buffy died. "Because I figured it out. Buffy doesn't need a hero. She IS a hero."

"Then what does she need?"

"You said it yourself. She needs ME. She needs my humanity. My brain ran through nearly every moment I spent with her, including that moment when I looked down at her broken body. Maybe if I had a superpower... or some special skill... I could have kept her from dying then. I could've beaten Glory. But..."

"But what?"

"Maybe if I was someone else, I never would have made her smile. Maybe someone else wouldn't have been able to cry with her when her mom died. Maybe a hero couldn't send her crashing back down to reality the way I have to sometimes. A hero would consider her an equal. To me... she's Buffy. She's amazing. I love her. She and Willow and I... even Giles... we're family. She doesn't need a hero. She needs me."

"Is that your final answer?" Jesse asked.

Xander raised his eyebrows.

"The one thing all those worlds have in common," Jesse said. "Regis. Go figure."

"I'm sure of my answer," Xander said. "What happens next?"

Jesse stuck out his hand. "We say goodbye."

Xander shook his hand before pulling him into a hug. "Jesse, if I could have..."

"I know, man," Jesse said. "I know."

Jesse faded from view leaving Xander momentarily alone in the darkness. Then, as he himself began to fade, he felt cool lips against his cheek. He turned and saw her for the briefest of moments before she was gone.

"Buffy!"

Even as he called to her, he realized he was back in the Magic Box. Giles and the others cast glances back and forth. The clock on the wall showed that it was midnight. Without speaking a word, they all knew the tests had already taken place. One by one, they discussed their tests, marvelling at one another's stories. Xander paid no attention to them. His mind kept rolling over what he saw in the Inbetween. He didn't know how long they had been talking, or even that anyone was addressing him until Giles placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Xander?" Giles repeated. "You haven't spoke a word since the testing. Not even to Anya. Did... did you fail the test?"

"I saw her," Xander said, a single tear plunging from his chin. "I saw her, Giles."

"Y-you saw... her?" Willow repeated. Dawn stepped over to him with tears in her eyes, and took his hand. There was a silence for a few moments. Giles was the first to break it. 

"You saw... Buffy?"

Xander nodded slowly. "I could feel her...see her. Guys..."

They all stared at him waiting to hear two very beautiful words. He didn't leave them wanting.

"She's alive."


	12. Part Twelve

Title: Hello Goodbye (Part 12 of 12)

Author: Jeanny 

Description: The gang must discover their gifts in order to bring Buffy back.

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. They all belong to Joss and Company. I don't own them and I'm not making any money here, not a single penny. A single penny is just about all I own, too.

Dedication: Thank you, zus, for all of your wonderful help! None of this would have been possible without you!

******

"Welcome, Chosen One." Buffy was not amused to find herself standing in this cavernous darkness. She had no visual of the voices that seemed to come from everywhere at once, but she instantly knew that they were the ones running the show. The Powers That Be. She would have been awed and impressed if she wasn't busy being annoyed.

"Wait. No. I want to go back to where I was...it was so peaceful, so beautiful..."

"You have fought well..."

"Uh-huh. Ummm, not needing the affirmation, but thanks. You know, this is really great and all..."

"You are our champion..."

"Again, thanks...I mean I'm sure we'll stay close, I'm sure we'll have lots of time to catch up, but right now I want to get back to a nice peaceful being dead..."

"You have been chosen."

"I was chosen. 'Have been' implies still chosen, which I am not...right?"

"You are our champion. Ten have been chosen. You have chosen the Ten..."

"No! I already...I fought for you, I died, I fought some more, I died again! Not wanting to make with the fighting and the dying again...huh? Ten what?"

"The Ten bear the gifts of the Slayer..."

"You always have to be cryptic? Just say what...gifts? Gifts for me?"

"The Ten will be tested."

"Sounds...vague. Can we get back to the part about the gifts?"

"If the Ten prove worthy, the Slayer will live, and the Ten will be rewarded..."

"I go back and they get rewarded? Figures. Goody for the Ten. I'm happy for them, really..."

"If the Ten fail...the Slayer will remain as she is...evil will triumph...and the Gifts of the Ten will be forfeit..."

"This is my life you're talking about. My life, my death. And you're talking like I'm not even here!"

"It's just their way, doll. You get used to it." This voice came from right behind her, and Buffy whirled around. Whistler doffed his hat at her and she groaned.

"I should have known. Are you the man behind the curtain?"

"That's pretty good, kid, but you're the one spitting on the ruby slippers."

"I didn't ask for this gig, Whistler! I didn't ask to be the Slayer, and I didn't ask to die! But I did, so why can't that be it?"

"Cause it's not over, doll. Death was your gift."

"Duly given. See me being dead over here. Saved the world, closed the portal, done."

"But you see, that's the thing. The world still needs saving, and you aren't the only one who has a gift to give in order to make sure that it gets saved."

"You mean the Ten? What is that all about?"

"I believe you're familiar with the Ten. They're your friends and family, well, most of them are. But all of them care about you. The Powers need them as much as they need you in order for our side to win the day. What they're trying to do has never been done before. It's a whole new ballgame."

"Are they in danger?" Whistler's silence was all the answer she needed. "No. You've got to stop this. I don't want this!"

"Course not. But you're just a mere shadow of yourself right now. Their gifts are going to make you become...what you'll need to be. You have no idea how out of balance things are right now. If you don't get their gifts, the earth will fall completely to evil."

"But I don't want..." Buffy realized it was pointless to repeat herself and turned away. She could feel tears stinging in her eyes and was momentarily amazed that she could still have that sensation. "Damn. Does the fate of the world always have to depend on me?" Whistler regarded her for a moment, then shook his head.

"You haven't been listening, doll. It don't depend on you. Depends on your friends."

******

Angel reeled with shock. He was standing back in the construction site with Spike, but he could still smell his sister, still feel the warmth of her skin. He could tell by Spike's face that he was equally surprised, but the blonde vampire quickly hid his amazement.

"Well, that was interesting..." Spike drawled, giving Angel an appraising look. "You look like you've seen a ghost, mate."

"Something like that," Angel responded carefully, not trusting Spike to understand what his experience meant to him or the meaning of his revelation. It was too important to him to have the other vampire throw it in his face. "What about you? Did anything...did you...?"

"Yeah, I had a bloody test...Powers thought they'd get the best of me. Underestimated me as usual." Without thinking Spike had sunk further into the shadows, and Angel knew that his experience had effected the blonde vampire more than he was willing to admit.

"Did you find your gift?"

"Of course I bloody well found it!" Spike sputtered, his voice loud with false bravado. "You?" Angel responded with a curt nod and a sigh.

"I wonder how the others did." Spike gave a short laugh.

"Probably mucked it up, especially Droopy." Angel glared at him, then walked away.

"Only one way to find out. I'm surprised you don't want to come see, just in case you're wrong." Spike stood frozen for a moment. What if they had managed to pass all the tests? Then that would mean...Buffy was alive. The thought was so wonderful it was terrifying.

Spike hesitated for one more moment before heading after Angel. He really needed a bloody cigarette.

******

Willow's heart was hammering so hard in her chest, she was surprised the others weren't complaining about the noise. It was hard to keep quiet, so intense was the urge to scream out her story. She wanted to tell them what she'd done, what she'd learned, that she'd seen Miss Calendar, most of all that she'd found her gift. Only two things were keeping her silent. One was her fear that mentioning Jenny Calendar would cause Giles pain. The other was simply the expressions on everyone else's faces. Everyone was clearly still processing whatever had happened to them, and Willow knew it would be a bit of time before everyone was ready to hear what had happened to the others. In fact, Dawn was laughing so hard that tears were running down her face for some reason that they still hadn't been able to determine. So when Giles turned to her expectantly, she had merely grinned and nodded. The time for the telling would be later. Right now it was her secret, burning her heart and making it beat so hard and fast. She could wait to tell them...when they could all tell Buffy.

******

"What's this all about?" Buffy scowled at Whistler as she recognized their new environment. "A little trip down memory lane to make me feel nostalgic? Someone needs to tell these guys that...Sunnydale High? Not exactly the greatest attraction in the world. They should show me Disneyland...or Magic Mountain!" Whistler simply gestured towards the slender redhead who had just appeared.

"The Powers decided it would be okay if you watched the tests. Might help you understand, or at least quit complaining for a few minutes. You're killin' me here."

"Willow? Hey! Willow!" Buffy called to her friend then looked at Whistler in annoyance. "What is this, like that two-way mirror stuff they use in police stations? I can see her, she can't see me?" Whistler grinned.

"You know I forgot how much experience you had with police stations. She's here for her test. We're here to watch. She can't see you or hear you because you're just a shadow. Until all the tests are passed, you won't really be you."

"I hate cryptic people. You know what? Forget I asked."

"You might want to listen to what's goin' on, seeing as it's why we're here," Whistler hissed at her. Buffy looked with wide eyes as Jenny Calendar appeared. They watched the two women walk down the hall together, and Buffy noted with interest that while she and Whistler were not actually moving themselves, the school moved around them so as to keep them centered on Willow. She let out a yelp as Angelus suddenly appeared.

"What the hell...Angel turned? No, that's some kind of illusion, right?"

"Angel's fine. But that's Angelus. No illusion, he's the real deal."

"You mean he can kill her?" Buffy's throat tightened as she watched Willow's terrified flight with Jenny in tow. She gave a frightened gasp when she saw Spike and Dru, instinctively realizing that this was the unchipped Spike who had once been her worst enemy.

"Actually, they all can." Whistler nodded at the three vampires, and Buffy grabbed his arms in frustration.

"No! We have to-"

"We can't do nothing. The witch's gotta save Jenny Calendar and herself, by herself. She gets it right, you got yourself a gift." Buffy decided at that moment it was a good thing she was dead, because she didn't breathe again until Willow had used her magick to dispatch the three vampires. She smiled widely.

"She did it! I knew she could do it!"

"Right," the demon snorted.

"I did," Buffy insisted. "I'm just not used to being sideline girl." Willow named her gift at that moment. Buffy was lit from within by a light so white and pure, it was almost blinding. Whistler had to shield his eyes for the second it lasted. He cocked his head at her appraisingly as she stared back at him, dazed.

"Never seen that before, and I've seen a lot of things. Pretty neat. How do you feel?"

"Like...like something was missing, and I didn't know it until now because it's back," Buffy answered slowly, grappling for the right words. She blinked in surprise as the halls of Sunnydale High faded into the less familiar setting of Angel's office. She shook her head in amazement watching the interaction between Cordelia and Doyle.

"Cordelia's helping me?"

"It's not the first time."

"And what's the deal with Doyle? Office romance? He doesn't seem her type."

"Sure he doesn't. Two words. Xander Harris."

"Point taken." Buffy said nothing else. She listened to Cordelia make her choice and then to her explanation of her decision. Buffy knew that Cordy was putting aside her own needs to do what she felt was right. She had no idea the former cheerleader was capable of such depth. A moment later she could feel Cordelia's gift inside her. The weight of the world was really back on her shoulders, but it felt like it belonged there. She remembered what it was like to make the kind of sacrifice she had just seen Cordelia make. No words could adequately express that sorrow. Whistler gave her hand a comforting squeeze. He knew that the next test was going to be one of the hardest on her.

*****

Cordelia had to blink back tears. She knew she had done the right thing letting Doyle go, but it was just as hard the second time as it had been the first. She saw Giles look at her with a frown of concern and quickly plastered a smile on her face.

"I'm good. Definitely. Passed. Whatever," she responded to his unspoken question. She took a deep shuddering breath. She was okay. She was Cordelia Chase. She was Vision Girl, given a gift that could help people in a way no one else could. Doyle had said the Powers had found her worthy of her gift. It wasn't much comfort in the face of this sense of loss, but it was something. She felt someone touch her hand; surprisingly it was Xander's girlfriend. She was smiling at her. Cordelia smiled back, and this time it was genuine. She lifted her chin and tossed her hair in what had once been a signature move. She knew she'd be okay, as soon as she saw she hadn't given up her love for nothing. Buffy had better hurry up and return, or Cordy was going to be highly annoyed.

*****

Dawn started giggling almost the second she realized they were back in the shop. It was either that or weep from the pain, from the fresh loss of her mother for a second time, from all she'd had to endure as the Key. The more she tried to stop the harder she found herself laughing. She couldn't get it under control. One thought was echoing through her head. She was Pinocchio. Or maybe Pinocchia. But no longer a Key to be manipulated, to be used, but a real girl.

"Dawn, are you quite all right?" Giles asked, clearly concerned, and Dawn managed to control her laughter long enough to reply.

"I saw my mom. And they wanted to see if I would sacrifice myself, only it was a trip. I'm not the Key anymore. I'm human. I'm a real person. I'm a real girl, Geppetto." And that did it. Dawn collapsed laughing again. In time she'd have to deal with her experience. She'd especially have to deal with what she'd endured as the Key. She'd used the laughter to keep the pain at bay. The giggles were already starting to subside, her breath hitching as painfully as if she'd been sobbing. Only one thing would make this tolerable, and that was her sister's arms around her, telling her that everything was okay.

*****

"No!" Buffy struggled in Whistler's grasp. "Dawnie!" She saw the pain etched on the faces of her sister and her mother. It was unbearable that she might be the cause of it. She clawed at the demon desperately. "Make them stop this!"

"It's almost over."

"I say it's over now!" Buffy screamed, although she knew she had no power to enforce the demand. She was helpless to stop what was happening to Dawn, the sister she had given her life to save. It made her sacrifice seem meaningless.

Just when Buffy thought she could bear no more, mercifully, it was over. Buffy wept as she felt the power that was Dawn's gift surge through her. When she opened her eyes, they were standing in the Irish countryside.

"I can't...I don't want to watch this..." Buffy said miserably as Angel was drawn to the scene from his past that had most tormented his souled immortality.

"It's rough, kid. I know. But Angel, he has to do this, and you have to watch."

"Why?"

"You're asking the wrong guy. I'm not the one making the rules here." Buffy wanted to scream at him, but she knew it would do no good. He was right. The Powers That Be were running the show here, and Whistler was as powerless to do anything to stop what was happening as she was. She watched in silence as Angel wrestled with his guilt. She was shocked at his gift. Forgiveness. She felt all traces of self-recriminations fall away.

"Wow. I...wow." Whistler grinned at her.

"I love it when you do that glowing thing. Angel brings forgiveness, eh? I'll say one thing for our brooding friend: he's always been full of surprises."

*****

Angel fought the urge to run. The urge itself was completely out of character for him, but he couldn't help himself. The burden that had weighed him down since being cursed had been lifted through his test. He finally could let some of it go, and his heart sang in response. How many epiphanies could one vampire have? Angel wasn't sure, but he was definitely grateful for this one. The only thing that could make this moment better would be seeing Buffy's face. If she was back at the Magic Box with the others, he didn't want to miss a moment. Joy and anticipation added to the impulse to simply take off running. He settled for walking faster.

"Hurry up," he growled to Spike, knowing the younger vampire was at his heels without having to look back.

*****

The first thing that Giles did when he realized he was back in the Magic Box was look at his watch. He blinked in amazement. One minute past midnight. All that had happened had transpired in almost no real time at all.

"Remarkable," he murmured, not aware that he had spoken aloud. Looking around the room, he noted with relief that no one was missing. All of the others seemed to be dazed, shaken and elated to various degrees. They also seemed to be more...present...than before. Like the qualities that were the best parts of themselves were now more prevalent. Giles knew that was how he felt. It was as if he'd never been truly comfortable in his own skin until this moment. Now if only he could be certain that it had worked. As Dawn collapsed into a hysterical fit of laughter, he amended that thought to include being certain that they had all emerged unscathed, with their sanity intact. He cleared his throat meaningfully.

"I believe we should try to ascertain whether our tests were successful. I can say I do believe I was able to pass my test and give my gift. Dawn, are you quite alright?"

*****

"Come on, Giles," Buffy cheered her Watcher on, even though she knew he wouldn't be able to hear her. Whistler gave her an amused look. Buffy pointed at the sunburned Englishman. "Well, look at him! It's just...sad."

"You worried?" Buffy shook her head emphatically.

"About Giles? Never. He'll find his gift. Oh. My. Is that a lion?"

"Lions and Tigers and Giles, oh my." Buffy glared at the demon, who shrugged. "What? It's funny."

"Not if he gets ripped to shreds!" Buffy retorted anxiously. Whistler smirked at her, and Buffy forced herself to remain calm for the rest of Giles' test. She breathed a huge sigh of relief when she saw Giles grin at his father and the locale shifted.

A while later she was looking at someone else being ripped to shreds, this time more of a psychological mauling. Giles' gift of insight had brought Buffy a kind of clarity of thought, and she realized watching Anya talk to her father how little she really knew about the girl's human past. She knew that Anya had mentioned her life prior to becoming a demon, but Buffy had tuned it out as she had much of her overly frank commentary. The story unfolding in front of made her wonder if even Xander knew where his girlfriend had come from and what she had endured.

Whistler had to shield his eyes. Anya's gift had blazed brighter than the others had, he thought perhaps because it was truth. There was no time to speculate on the matter as he and the Slayer were plunged into darkness.

*****

Anya was feeling generous. She wanted to run into Xander's arms, but one glance at the distant look on his face told her now wasn't the time. It was okay. She could be patient. They had time.

Instead she looked around at the others. Willow's eyes shown with secret joy. Dawn had obviously gone insane. Giles was quickly trying to reassert his authority over the situation. Cordelia looked quietly devastated, and Anya impulsively took her hand. She couldn't believe she had ever been jealous of her. After all, she would still be a vengeance demon if it hadn't been for Xander and Willow's high school dalliance. Cordelia's pain had been the catalyst for her new life, and now that she had finally been able to confront her father, she could totally leave vengeance behind. And the new improved Anya was definitely generous when it came to weepy ex-girlfriends. As long as they stayed away from Xander.

When Giles asked, she told her story in excruciating and rather uncomfortable detail. Hers, after all, was the gift of truth.

*****

Tara basked in the joy of being out of the basement, of being back in the company of her friends. She wanted to grab each one of them and hold them to her. She wanted to whisper the secrets that were written on her heart into their ears. To tell Dawn she understood why she was laughing. To tell Willow all the reasons she had fallen deeply in love. To tell how she'd gone up against Glory and won. She wanted to talk about how much she'd loved Buffy and how excited she was that she was coming back. The sense of anticipation in the room was heightened, and Tara wanted to share how that felt.

"Tara?" Giles asked, and she simply smiled.

"I...I know I passed." There was time for all of that later.

*****

Buffy contemplated Tara and her mother in silence. As with Anya, she was struck by how little she knew of her friend's background. She knew that her mother was dead; Tara had been a great comfort to her when her own mother passed away. She knew first hand that Tara's father and brother were grade A jerks who had convinced her that she was a demon. But the atrocities that had clearly taken place in this basement she knew nothing about. She couldn't be certain, but she bet that Willow didn't know about them either. Tara had chosen to keep these things hidden; Buffy resolved to make an effort to help her open up in the future.

Glory's appearance and her accusations hit hard. Having seen how much she didn't know about Willow's girlfriend, Buffy was momentarily worried that she didn't know the girl as well as she had thought. Then Glory was again vanquished, and Buffy received compassion from Tara. Seeing the tears in her eyes, Whistler smiled wryly.

"Don't go getting all touchy-feely on me, kid. Save it for our next stop."

The next stop was a familiar spot. The strange and unsettling meeting of two Slayers: the First and Faith, who apparently was the Last. Confusing as hell. Then the unfortunate Allen Finch and hated Mayor took turns telling Faith about the nature of being the Slayer and what her gift was to be. Buffy felt empathy for what Faith was being asked to sacrifice, but feared it was all over. There was no way the Faith she knew would give up being the Slayer. She liked the power of it all too much. Liked the violence too much. Still, she hoped she was wrong.

Buffy felt briefly dizzy and staggered, nearly falling. She reached out blindly. Whistler grabbed her around the waist and gave her some support.

"What was that?"

"Off hand, I'd say you just got Faith's gift." Buffy knew he was right. She could feel newly acquired Slayer strength coursing through her, but she frowned in confusion.

"Strange...I know they told Faith something about me, but I can't remember what they said..."

"It's not good to know too much about your destiny." Buffy took one last look at Faith hugging Richard Wilkins, her expression one of dazed wonder.

"I don't believe it. She gave up being the Slayer for me."

*****

"Whatever it takes, B."

Faith hadn't realized she had spoken the words out loud, but she was instantly aware that she was back in her cell. She stood took a quick stroll around the cell, which was small enough to give a whole new meaning to the word quick. She felt simultaneously emptier and more whole than she'd ever felt before, but Faith wasn't the type to dwell on the whys and whats and hows of feelings. She was Action Gal, except...well, there was going to be a lot less action from now on. Without her Slayer abilities, everything was going to be different.

"It's what I always wanted," said a wistful voice from the vicinity of her bunk, and Faith stiffened. She turned and gave her surprise visitor a half-smile, forcing herself to relax. It wasn't really that unexpected, but it was more than she'd allowed herself to hope for.

"This? You wanna trade? I'm listening." Faith smirked, crossing her arms to hide the fact that they were trembling. Buffy smiled back at her, sitting back on her hands as if she was sitting on a sunny park bench instead of in a grimy cell.

"I'm thinking that's not really an option." The smile disappeared from her face. "Why did you do it, Faith? Give it up?"

"Did what I had to, B. You know I'm not really cut out for the hero gig. You are. And the world needs a Slayer that's a hero."

"You sell yourself short," Buffy answered, standing and moving over to the dark haired girl.

Faith became rigid again, her hands involuntarily clenching into fists. She was tensing for a fight that would fortunately never come again. Buffy put her hands on Faith's shoulders, and Faith could feel the warmth in them. The life, the strength, and something more. Something more powerful than she had ever sensed in anyone or anything. It made her want to drop her gaze, but pride won the day.

"I saw you. I saw all of you. I know what you did, what you gave up. Don't ever say you're not a hero, Faith. You're a hero to me." Buffy pulled Faith into a hug and Faith held on for dear life, tears spilling onto the blonde Slayer's shoulder.

"I'm really glad you're back, B." Buffy pulled away to look at her, and seemed surprised by her own response.

"I'm glad, too." She cocked her head, hearing something beyond Faith's hearing, then frowned with genuine regret.

"I have to go, I'm sorry."

"S'okay. Would be a bit hard to explain how you got in here...and the Slayer shouldn't be behind bars." Buffy let go of her but Faith grabbed her arm. "We were a good team, weren't we?" Buffy smiled and nodded.

"We made a great team. The world will never see anything like it again." Buffy gave Faith one more quick hug then moved away.

"Lucky world," Faith murmured.

"I won't forget you, Faith. I'll be checking in, to see how you're doing. If there's anything you need."

"I'd like that. There is something I need. Something you can do for me."

"What?" Now Faith really did have to look away. She mumbled the first part of her parting words, shouting the last part as Buffy shimmered and disappeared.

"Tell Xander, tell everybody, I'm sorry. And kick some evil ass."

*****

Spike was afraid. His least favorite way to feel, and it was pissing him off. He was afraid that he had messed this whole thing up. William had been so sure that love was his gift, and it made sense. What if he was right, and Spike had thrown that away?

Even as the thought crossed his mind he knew he had done the right thing. He clung to the thought. He had to believe he wouldn't have that persistent feeling of being right if he had really failed. And he would know soon enough, as he and Angel had finally reached the Magic Box. He followed the dark-haired vamp inside.

*****

"Oh no." Buffy was aghast as she saw Spike, his double and what was on the movie screen. "Oh, please don't tell me that love is Spike's gift. I just got over the whole obsessing over me thing, and he's been great about Dawn and all, but still...oh no."

"Is jumping to conclusions some kind of Slayer thing? Cause you do that a lot. Keep your shirt on, kid. Have some faith."

"In Spike? You want me to have faith in Spike?"

"Why not?" Whistler frowned at Buffy's incredulous expression. He pointed at the blonde vampire. "You think this is some kind of mistake? He's one of the Ten. He has a gift for you, something you need. Whether you get it or not, you need him."

Buffy pursed her lips. There was no point in protesting Whistler's words. She knew that he was right. She did need Spike on some level. But his gift was not love. She couldn't help but shudder as she absorbed the gift of darkness, knowing that it was not a call to evil but a matter of balance. Perhaps her relationship with Spike was the same.

She shuddered again as the gaudy theatre gave way to the scene of her first death. Buffy smiled when she saw Xander and Jesse talking together. She had been keeping count, so she knew that Xander was the tenth and final test. She had no doubt that he would succeed. Xander had never let her down, and she knew he never would. His confession of his feelings at her death was painful, but mainly because she knew he'd been tormenting himself with that moment for months.

Even with the insight that she had received from Giles, she still was Buffy. All the talk of other worlds and Earth Prime meant nothing to Buffy; she only knew that Xander was being offered a chance to bring her back himself, and to get some kind of supernatural powers as well. Buffy knew that Xander had always resented being 'normal', and that she had been guilty in the past of wounding his pride by diminishing his role. Buffy knew she'd only been trying to protect him, but she regretted never having shared with him how much she admired him for facing down so many things without Slayer powers. He always had her back. Xander had always chosen her needs over his own, and this time was no exception. She felt the final piece of herself lock into place, and the overwhelming sense of love for her friends took hold. Without asking she moved towards Xander, giving him a kiss on the cheek shortly before he faded, shocking herself by the sensation of contact. Whistler laughed.

"Why are you so surprised? You're alive now. The Ten have proven more than worthy. As the Powers said, they will be rewarded. You ready to reward them?"

*****

"She's alive."

Angel and Spike had run into the shop in time to hear those words. They saw everyone standing around expectantly, and Dawn tearfully holding Xander's hand. Anya and Cordelia were huddled together like old friends, and Giles was polishing his glasses with shaky hands, great emotion playing across his features. What they didn't see was Buffy.

"She's alive? Where is she?" Angel asked gruffly.

"Not here, obviously," Spike drawled, hiding his hopeful heart behind belligerence.

"I don't know, but I know she's alive," Xander answered defensively. "I saw her. She kissed my cheek."

"She's alive; she'll be here," Willow declared emphatically.

"You're saying she's late?" Spike responded incredulously. "What, she got stuck in all the coming-back-from-the-dead traffic?"

"Not exactly," the voice they'd been waiting to hear spoke from the doorway. Unable to breathe, they turned as one and saw her. Buffy grinned at them as she brandished a large pink bakery box. "Actually, I stopped for doughnuts." She dropped the box and held out her arms.

Dawn reached her first, then Xander, and then all of them were huddled together in a great laughing, crying group hug. A full parade of demons could have wandered in at that moment and would have been unnoticed, so the single poorly dressed demon that actually was there remained unseen by all. Whistler smiled in satisfaction at the joyful tableau.

"You just gotta love a happy beginning."

*****

THE END!


End file.
